


OPERATION: ElyXiOn

by blondae_pinkdae



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, EXO - Freeform, EXO AU, Eventual Smut, Friendship, Love, Love Triangles, Love/Hate, M/M, Male Friendship, Sci-Fi AU, Space Pirates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2019-10-31 12:10:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 46
Words: 171,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17849219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blondae_pinkdae/pseuds/blondae_pinkdae
Summary: An AU where the lines between good and bad are blurred, and you, the reader, must decide whose side you're on.Kim Minseok is the leader of a small, powerful militia that is meant to perform tasks in the interests of the galaxy's current galactic leader. However, when things don't go the way they should, during a routine mission, he and his team capture the wrong person. They then find themselves suddenly becoming the targets of one of the biggest space pirate factions in the galaxy.





	1. CHAPTER 1: TEAM ACE

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings and welcome!
> 
> I would just like to preface that this AU contains the following: Violence/Suggestive Violence, Profanity, Partial Nudity, Death. I will try my best to mark violent chapters with a (*).
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

 

Kim Minseok stood in front of the cold, metal door that separated him and the daunting task that had been assigned to him and his team. His hand laid flat on the cool metal that felt like dry ice under the palm of his hand. He knew who was standing behind that door, waiting for him, and was unsure if he was ready to face the judgement that would be apparent on their face. For a long moment, Minseok listened to the steady heartbeat that was drumming in his ears. He counted them, and counted them, until that cool metal door quickly and suddenly slid open to reveal the very face he was expecting.

“How did it go?” Junmyeon pushed his hands into his pockets.

Minseok took a millisecond to compose himself, straightening his back and looking Junmyeon in the eyes, “You already know how it went, you predicted it yourself.”

Minseok took a large stride forward, and began charging through the cold, gray air hanger, straight toward the conference room that had been assembled for his team. A team that had been constructed to combat and downsize rowdy space pirates, who were a royal pain in his ass.

Minseok could hear Junmyeon’s steps desperately trailing behind him as he grabbed the door handle and threw open the door to spot the other three members of his team. Kyungsoo lifted his head from a stack of blueprints that he had been mulling over all morning and shot Minseok a contemplative glance. Minseok pushed further into the space, Junmyeon still trailing behind him, found his space at the head of the conference table, and sighed.

“Will someone please care to explain to me as to why Kyungsoo is the only one who has been doing any real work today?” Minseok slammed the palm of his hand down on the table, causing Chanyeol and Sehun to jump in surprise. “We have a band of space pirates on the loose out there, and you two are sitting here twiddling your thumbs like you have nothing important to do.”

Junmyeon cleared his throat in warning. Minseok knew he was always hard on Chanyeol and Sehun, but he also knew that being hard on them pushed them to work harder. If it wasn’t for their impeccable skills, Minseok probably would have done away with them long ago. Sehun was one of the best pilots in this system, and everyone but Sehun knew it. More so, if it wasn’t for Chanyeol’s talent in creating fighter ships, particularly the stealth fighter MK-326, he knew that ACE would be nothing.

Minseok let out another long sigh, “Look, I’m sorry, but the Captain has been jumping down my throat all morning because of these pirates, and now we have been assigned the task to visit their leaders for peace treaty negotiations.”

Kyungsoo set the pen he had been holding down on to the table and pushed the blueprints away, “So what you are saying is that we have to do all of the boring work.”

Minseok glared in Kyungsoo’s direction, “What I’m saying is that you all need to pack your shit and get in the 326, as soon as you can, we’ve got a long flight ahead of us.”

Minseok stood from his chair, gathered the blueprints Kyungsoo had been focusing so diligently on for the last week, and stormed from the room. This time Junmyeon did not follow, and Minseok preferred it this way. For a long time, Minseok had always been a lone wolf, and was ACE’s most prestigious stealth assassin. When the Captain decided that Minseok needed to put together a team of experts to combat this pirate issue, he had been against the team formation. He never worked with a team before, and it wasn’t easy because of Minseok’s reclusive tendencies. He was contracted by the Captain to do solo jobs, and solo jobs _only_. It was the only stipulation that Minseok negotiated at the signing of his contract. That had been nearly nine years ago. About five years in, a rise in space pirate activity spiked. Their ultimately goal was to terrorize the citizens and convert them to a newer, more unstable political power that had been born out of hate. The Captain argued this was a problem that was far too large in scale for Minseok to handly on his own, and ordered him to put together a team of highly trained individuals to help him in diminishing this new political power. Despite his initial resistance, Minseok couldn’t be more grateful to the people who had been forced into his life.

Minseok climbed the ramp into the 326, and went straight for the super computer. He shoved his hands into his pockets and fished out the operation card that had been supplied to him. He inserted the card and plopped down into the seat with a soft thud, and watched as four operative profiles categorized themselves on the large screen. Minseok knew they weren’t anyone from the ACE organization, which must have meant they were associated with the pirate band somehow. He stared at the photos that were attached to each of the profiles, and he stared at them _hard_. The longer he looked at the photos, the more he wondered why they looked vaguely familiar. Minseok shook the feeling away as soon as he noticed the outline of Chanyeol and Sehun’s silhouettes on the glare being cast onto the computer screen. Minseok extracted the operation card from the computer, and stood to greet the two.

Minseok went to open his mouth when Sehun walked past him in a determined concentration. Minseok knew that look on Sehun’s face whenever they were about to leave for a mission. Sehun’s natural talent was flying, and whenever he flew it was as if the rest of his surroundings ceased to exist. It was as if he adopted mental tunnel vision; he would become selective about whatever information went in and out of his mind. Minseok’s jaw went slack and then turned to Chanyeol who stood there patiently waiting as Junmyeon and Kyungsoo were climbing up the deck with bags slung over their shoulders.  

“Where are we heading?” Sehun shouted from the cockpit while flipping a million different switches.

Minseok’s head snapped in Sehun’s direction, and not too long after that so did his feet. Once he got closer to the pilot’s chair, Minseok rest his hand on the back of the chair and looked onward, “Apparently, this meeting has been arranged to be located in an operational space station just right outside of Callisto.”

Sehun halted, the one hand he had on the steering wheel tensed around the handle. He cleared his throat and nodded in Minseok’s direction, silently dismissing him.

Minseok patted the back of Sehun’s chair before walking off to find Junmyeon and Kyungsoo.

“Callisto?” Kyungsoo arched an eyebrow as he sunk down into the seat that Minseok had been inhabiting prior to their arrival, “Really?”

Minseok nodded mindlessly nodded, looking to Junmyeon for some kind of reaction.

“Callisto is pretty far out.” Junmyeon noted, “Why would the Captain want to set up the meeting there of all places?”

Junmyeon looked toward Sehun, who was in the process of raising the ramp of the 326, cleared his throat and lowered his voice, “We all know that Sehun doesn’t like to go anywhere even remotely near Jupiter, and now we are being forced to dock and meet at one of its space stations?”

Minseok lightly shrugged, “I don’t like it anymore than any of you, and Sehun knows it’s nothing personal. It’s just business.”

“But Callisto?” Kyungsoo repeated, “It’s a four day flight at the least. Are the band of pirates really that far out that we have to meet them at Callisto?”

Minseok rolled his eyes and pulled the operation card from his pocket again, reaching past Kyungsoo’s head and sticking it into the reader. The four operative profiles that had been downloaded onto the card shot up onto the screen. Minseok minimized the profiles to go over later, and went straight for the secure operation details file. He could feel Junmyeon’s eyes on his back as he quickly dismissed the four unknown operatives.

As the operation details surfaced onto the computer, Minseok sat in the chair directly next to Kyungsoo, “According to the Captain, the band of pirates have been lurking around Neptune for the last couple of weeks, and have been causing all sorts of disturbances. Some of the reports that have come in describe that there seems to be some internal struggles within the pirates’ group, and a select few members have been identified. The Captain wants us to meet with the leaders of their group, again, to try and negotiation some peace terms to keep them from disturbing the lives of the citizens.”

Kyungsoo slouched in his seat, “If they weren’t willing to negotiation terms back when they were terrorizing the citizens of Mars, what makes you think they are going to want to negotiate terms now?”

It was more so a rhetorical question than a legitimate one, since there was no questioning the decisions of the Captain. Minseok fell back into the seat as the 326 roared to life, leaving the chair to softly vibrate against Minseok’s back.

Minseok closed his eyes and felt the ship shoot into the light that would soon melt into darkness.


	2. CHAPTER 2: TEAM ROGUE

The bomb went off before Byun Baekhyun could process what was going on. Baekhyun scrambled to his feet and frantically scanned the lake that was permanently frozen over for any sign of Jongin. He could hear and feel the angry, yet steady, pace of his heart pulsing in the veins of his arms. The adrenaline forced his lungs to inhale short, shallow breaths. Alpha hadn’t let them know that he had planted a bomb in the midst of Neptune’s ice forest, one that was filled with hundreds of ice miners. Many of them most likely dying as he breathed. 

Baekhyun spotted Yixing before anyone else. Yixing was swinging from and maneuvering the thick branches of the icicle trees that had been crafted by the people of Neptune in an effort to mirror the lush, green trees of Earth. Thank whatever higher power was looking over Baekhyun for sending Yixing first before the rest of his crew. Baekhyun looked to the half-exposed wound that ran along his left shoulder, and returned to scanning the ice plane for any sign of Jongin or Jongdae. He could feel that Yixing had finally found a place at his right side without even looking, he could hear the deep and heavy panting coming from Yixing’s throat.

“Baek, is it just you?” Yixing came into Baekhyun’s peripheral frame of vision and grasped his shoulder, “Where are Jongin and Jongdae?”

Yixing looked panicked, which was an unusual look, even for him. Baekhyun shrugged his shoulders, unintentionally shrugging Yixing’s hand away, “I don’t know, I haven’t heard anything from either of them. The bomb detonating really threw the original plan off course.”

Baekhyun’s frantic scanning came to a halt when Yixing forced him to sit in the loose snow, “You’re hurt. Don’t move.”

Yixing took a moment to examine the wound that splayed from the edge of Baekhyun’s collar bone to the curve of his shoulder. The irritation on Yixing’s face was crystal clear; however, Baekhyun couldn’t even be surprised at the irritation since he was always finding ways to get himself injured. Yixing let out a sigh of frustration, gripped the edge of Baekhyun’s thin shirt and ripped it clean open, pushing the left sleeve off of his body. The wound wasn’t necessarily large, but it also wasn’t entirely small. 

“It looks like an ice shard grazed you when the bomb went off,” Yixing picked and pulled at the gash, examining it thoroughly for anything that might infect the wound before he closed it. There was a limit to what Yixing’s ability could do. He was the best healer Baekhyun had ever met in his short life amongst this group. Yet, if a wound wasn’t cleaned properly prior to its closing, then it would proceed to get infected. It was the one thing Yixing fear the most, that he would be causing more pain and suffering rather than supplying any genuine help, despite his good intentions. 

“Baek! Yixing!”

Baekhyun’s head shot in the direction of Jongin’s distant voice, who was now winnowing his way toward the two of them. Baekhyun could hear Yixing let out a small sigh of relief. Despite the fact that Alpha was in charge, there was an unspoken agreement between Jongin, Jongade, and Baekhyun that Yixing was the leader of their small task force. No one else could ever be more well suited for such as position. 

Baekhyun felt Jongin’s hands clasp down on the back of his neck, “Just relax, Baekhyun, and don’t move.”

Regardless of what anyone else said about a healing session, Baekhyun always struggled under the touch of any healer, including Yixing. It was one of the most unbearable pains he had ever experienced in his life. He would rather get shot in the leg and let the wound remain open than sit through a healing session, no matter how gentle the healer may be. Baekhyun bit down on his lip until he could taste the blood rushing over the plain of taste buds across his tongue. He could feel Jongin snake an arm across and around the front of Baekhyun’s bare stomach to hold him in place while Yixing worked.

“Take a deep breath, Baek,” Yixing warned. 

Baekhyun sucked in a shaky breath, and before he could even exhale the pain ran hot up and down his left arm. A scream ripped out of Baekhyun’s throat, so loud that it might have been capable of triggering an avalanche. He couldn’t help but squirm in the snow that had now soaked through the bottom of his pants and was close to freezing his hand to the point that it would be non-functional. It came to surprise Baekhyun how more intense sorts of pain were capable of making someone realize the pains they were unable to notice before. Baekhyun was sure that he had bit right through his bottom lip. His arm felt like it had been set on fire.

Baekhyun could feel that Jongin had tightened his grip around him in order to crush his arm against the side of his ribcage.  _ Where the hell was Jongdae? _ He was unsure if he had said it out loud or not, but it was as if someone somewhere had heard his heart, because Jongdae appeared in front of Baekhyun as soon as the thought passed. Jongdae had been panting to the point where Baekhyun was convinced that Jongdae might have been able to choke on the air around them.

“What—” Jongdae gulped down another breath of air, “What happened?” 

Jongin squeezed the back of Baekhyun’s neck, “You know, Baekhyun, always getting injured on missions like this.”

Jongdae rolled his eyes and slapped the side of his thigh in annoyance, “What happened.”

It wasn’t a question anymore, and it was clear that whatever Jongdae had been through to get to them had set him on edge. 

Despite his deep concentration, it was Yixing that answered, “It looks like an ice shard grazed him earlier after detonation.” 

Yixing took a deep breath and lifted his hand from Baekhyun’s shoulder, examining the fresh scar that had formed there. Yixing’s hands were rough against the smooth skin of Baekhyun’s shoulders, he could only imagine all of the trials and tribulations that he had to have gone through to earn the markings of a true healer. 

Baekhyun could feel the release of Jongin’s strong grasp from around his abdomen, and with that release came the loosening of a million breathes he hadn’t realized had been leashing within him. Yixing held out his hand to help Baekhyun up from the freezing snow, and took that hand without any sort of resistance. Before he could even straighten his legs, Jongdae had thrown an arm around Baekhyun and released a breath.

“How many times do I have to tell you to be careful when you’re out doing things on your own?” Baekhyun could feel the vibrations of Jongdae’s voice against his bare chest, and quickly threw an arm around Jongdae in response. 

Jongdae backed away and pulled a spare jacket from his pack, and threw it around Baekhyun’s shoulders, “Let’s get going before Alpha suspects that we ran off without them.”

Baekhyun heard a distinct cough come from behind him, and he could feel the blood in his veins halt. 

“What was all of that about, Alpha?” Yixing swallowed, straightening his back.

Alpha scoffed and spit into the snow, “I think the more important question is why was I able to hear Baekhyun scream from nearly a mile away, and risk our position?”

Baekhyun could see the contemplation on Yixing’s face, as if it were as obvious as the fact that snow is white. Yixing cleared his throat, “What position? Aren’t we—aren’t we supposed to be helping these people? If that’s the case, then why are we setting off bombs in the middle of an already unstable area?”

Jongdae took a couple of steps closer to Yixing to show the support they had always given him over Alpha. It wasn’t that they didn’t obey the orders that Alpha had given them, but they never took the means that Alpha desired to shape the outcome of their missions. Every decision was made by Yixing, and their loyalties would continue to lay with him. 

Baekhyun noticed Jongin slowly placing himself in front of him. Despite the fact that Baekhyun was older than Jongin, it was always Jongin acting as the protector, instead of the other way around. Jongin was the youngest out of all of them, and yet, he was determined to be the sole protector of them all. It made Baekhyun feel ashamed of himself, and consistently made him question whether or not he was actually doing anything to be useful. If anything, he was always putting himself in the line of fire, and would wind up injured. Ultimately expending Yixing’s energy, which was one of the most valuable resources that they had readily at hand. 

Alpha scoffed as he waltzed closer to Yixing, “We are helping these people.” 

“By killing them?”

“By relieving them of their suffering.”

Yixing’s face was riddled with doubt as Alpha spit at his feet. The small gesture alone made Baekhyun’s blood boil. 

A chuckle escaped Alpha’s lips, and as he turned away he looked beyond his shoulder, back at Yixing, “Let’s get going, there are some very important people that we are meeting very soon, and I’m going to need my best men for an assignment when we get there.” 

Baekhyun and Jongdae glanced at each other quickly in confusion and then looked to Yixing once Alpha began dragging his feet through the snow and away from them. 

Yixing sighed, shoving his hands into the depths of his pockets as he turned to look at the three men who stood before him, “It looks like the work never truly does stop for us.”

Yixing walked off quickly, trailing Alpha just as if he were just another wolf amidst a larger pack. Yet, as Baekhyun began following the trail of footprints left in the snow of the only alpha that actually mattered. 


	3. CHAPTER 3: TEAM ACE

It was the fourth day and Kim Minseok was sure that if he had to be in the same enclosed space with Park Chanyeol for any longer, he might chuck him straight into the depths of space. He tried his best to plant his bouncing foot firmly on the ground, but something about Chanyeol’s restlessness on flights such as these set him on edge. He could hardly wait for Sehun to take his break from flying so that Chanyeol could take over. However, they were only about thirty minutes out from the Callisto station, so it would not come off as a surprise on Minseok’s part if Sehun pushed on from here.

It hadn’t been long since the news came in regarding the ice mine incident on Neptune, and it made Minseok’s stomach ache with anger. He could only imagine the numerous lives that had been lost in an accident like that. Citizens of Earth never seemed to understand how much more disastrous and painful the collapsing of an ice mine is; very few individuals have actually lived to tell about that sort of indescribable pain. People of Earth have always tried to compare ice mines to that of gold or salt mines, especially the catastrophes that occur there. At least on Earth, being crushed by a rock will save you from the excruciating pain that is being sliced in to by large, razor sharp ice shards. The cracking of the scalding ice. The glass-like shards that pierce the skin when it hits the body. It was a whole new definition of hell.

Minseok sucked in a breath and looked to Junmyeon, who had been keeping himself busy by memorizing the ins-and-outs of that operation card; the four familiar, yet unfamiliar, operative profiles included. Junmyeon concluded that the four operatives were not just agents of the pirates’ band, but were a team specially designed to carry out stealth missions. They were highly skilled in a variety of fields, much more skilled than anyone on his own team. Minseok questioned the authenticity of the profiles, considering that the Captain had always made it abundantly clear that these pirates were capable of creating convincingly realistic false identities. Based on looks alone, Minseok was not entirely convinced that those four men were capable of doing everything that had been listed on each of their skill charts. Nonetheless, Minseok knew better than to judge a book by its cover, and he was sure that most people would be shocked as to what he was physically capable of, as well. So, he pushed the long, long list of accomplishments and skills in the back of his mind to continue memorizing later. 

“These men are capable of powers I have never even witnessed with my own eyes,” Junmyeon had said this at least four times within the last hour. “I mean, teleportation? Minseok, have you ever seen someone teleport before?” 

“As a matter of fact, Junmyeon, I have,” Minseok stood from his seat as Junmyeon turned to get a better look at him, “And, if you watch closely, I’m about to teleport right now!”

Junmyeon scoffed and sneered as Minseok rolled his eyes and walked away from the supercomputer to where Sehun had been silently navigating for the last few hours. Minseok rounded the back of the co-pilot’s chair and sat down. Sehun hadn’t made any effort to show that he acknowledged Minseok’s new-found presence. Minseok stared into the vast open space that stood between him and the pane of thick, vacuum-sealed glass of the 326. Whenever ACE was assigned missions that required them to take long ventures into these depths of space, it was always an explicit reminder that he was merely one insignificant life in the midst of billions and trillions of miles of never ending darkness. 

“Are you nervous?”

Sehun’s gentle voice dragged Minseok away from the darkness that was trillions of miles away from him and placed him back into the seat that was rock solid against his back. Minseok did a double take as Sehun looked away from that grand darkness and toward him—his leader. A leader. Someone that Sehun looked up to, looked to for guidance. Yet, Minseok couldn’t bring himself to admit that meetings like this always made him doubt his leadership abilities. Minseok had never been the negotiating type, and was the primary reason as to why Junmyeon was his second-in-command. It was also the reason why Minseok never led any of their political talks, and merely left it to Junmyeon to smooth talk the enemy. Sehun knew that, but he always asked anyways. 

Minseok cleared his throat and locked eyes with an apprehensive Sehun, “Are you?” 

Sehun mindlessly nodded, “Every time.” 

It was the first time Minseok had ever heard Sehun admit that he was nervous, and he almost couldn’t believe it. However, Minseok never really took the time to consider that Sehun was the youngest out of everyone in their team, considering that Sehun was always mature about everything. Much more mature than that of Park Chanyeol anyways. 

Minseok sucked in a shallow breath, “There’s nothing for you to be nervous about, we have done this dozens of times in the past.”

“With very little success most of the time.”

“And that frightens you?” Minseok turned his body in the stiff seat to get a better read of Sehun’s face.

“It’s not the failure that scares me,” The knuckles of Sehun’s hands had turned completely white as they grew closer and closer to the Callisto station. “What scares me is what might happen to all of you—to all of us—if we do fail enough times. You of all people know how unforgiving the Captain is.” 

Minseok’s back started to burn at the thought, and he felt a hand clasp onto his shoulder. Minseok turned just enough to see Kyungsoo in his peripheral vision. A touch of comfort, and a touch that conveyed a secret for a secret. 

Sehun slowed the pace of the fighter in order to begin the docking process at the same time Junmyeon and Chanyeol found their places at Minseok’s side. The station itself was huge, it was roughly the same size as many of Jupiter’s moons; it could probably easily pass off as a moon itself. Sehun began communicating with the individuals inside the flight tower when Minseok lifted himself from the seat and started back toward the conference table. Minseok could hear the three sets of footsteps that followed closely behind, and now that they had arrived, it was all business, and business only. Minseok picked up the jacket he had shrugged off at the beginning of their trip, the same jacket that displayed the various medals that he had earned over the years. Whether or not he deserved the medals...he wasn’t entirely sure. Minseok noticed the bright cast of light that entered the already well-lit space craft, and looked beyond the glass toward the unfamiliarity of the Callisto space station. 

Minseok could hear the familiar sound and buzz of the ramp unlocking and descending from the position it had been in for the last several days. Next thing he knew, Sehun was standing right in front of Minseok, hand over his heart and bowing his head.  _ We are with you. Until the end.  _ Sehun had said this many years ago. They had all been on a mission that sent them to Venus to deal with a dispute between clashing territories. A few days after they had arrived, they found themselves amidst the violent and physically trying fighting that had been occurring for months. The last day of the fighting was one that Minseok would never forget. He would never be able to erase the look on Kyungsoo’s face as he jumped in front of a swinging sword to protect him. After the fighting had stopped and Minseok was able to get Kyungsoo to one of the best healers could find, Sehun found Minseok breaking down in the middle of that blood soaked battlefield. Ever since that day, these small gestures have served the same purpose as those those words. 

Minseok turned to that team who had been with him through all of the trials and tribulations that came with position. All of them were nervous, they could all feel it in the air that surrounded and cocooned them, “If we fail today, I will personally let all of you have the chance to kick Junmyeon’s ass one at a time.”

Short spouts of chuckles rang from the group as Minseok smirked. Kyungsoo was the first to make his way out of the fighter and down the ramp to greet the overseers of the Callisto station. Junmyeon followed shortly after, playfully slapping Minseok on the back; a gesture that seemed to imply that Minseok would be paying for that comment later. Chanyeol and Sehun took no time to follow Junmyeon, and before Minseok turned to leave, he quickly exported the operation card from the super computer, tucked it away in his breast pocket, and walked to meet the remainder of his team. 

~

They had been escorted to a secluded conference room that was located on the highest floor of the space station. They had been waiting approximately an hour before Kyungsoo slapped his hand down on the table, “Do they expect us to wait all day? Who even set up this meeting?”

Minseok sniffled away his discomfort. He didn’t like the nervous anticipation anymore than the rest of them, and it was the same anticipation that was setting everyone on edge. Those pirate overlords could walk through that door at any moment without notice and Minseok would be ready for them. In the nine years Minseok had been working with this team, and the five years they had been hunting down these pesky pirate bands, he had never come face-to-face with the leader that commanded these pirate factions. He had met with many subordinates: second-in-commands, lieutenants, and a variety of well-trusted spies and assassins, but never  _ the  _ leader. Minseok wasn’t exactly sure what to expect from a leader like that, but he was prepared for the worst. 

As Minseok predicted, the door flew open without any warning. Minseok and the rest of team ACE stood to greet their delegation, which was everything and nothing that Minseok had expected. They were very well put together: well-dressed, slicked back hair, impeccable posture. However, Minseok was a firm believer in the idea that manners could counteract physical appearance. Everything about them rubbed Minseok the wrong way. It all seemed superficial, as if it were nothing more than for show. Minseok could feel Junmyeon and Kyungsoo sizing these men up with their eyes, analyzing and memorizing whatever they possibly could, any bit of implicit visual information that could help ease the tensions. Although, Minseok noted that they really didn’t have much to work with. These men didn’t wear any insignia, which Minseok found odd, that represented their cause, no name badges, no medals, nothing. It was as if these men were going out of their way to make themselves unknown.

Noted.

Minseok bowed as a sign of respect for their presence and cooperation, and could vaguely hear the rest of his team follow suit. When they straightened, the delegation that stood opposite of them proceeded to sit. Team ACE followed suit. 

“So,” the young man who sat in between both flanks of the delegation was the first to speak, “Am I speaking with this renowned Captain that everyone speaks so highly of, or did he send his team of lackeys to do the job for him?”

Minseok could feel his eyebrow twitch as he folded his hands in his laps. Junmyeon cleared his throat and sat up straighter in his seat, “While the Captain wished he could have been here to meet with you and your cabinet, there were some more pressing matters that he had to deal with in the meantime.”

To Minseok’s left, he noticed Kyungsoo turn his head in the direction of the door. A question Minseok would have to save for later, considering the door had no windows on or even remotely near it.

“I thought this was supposed to be a meeting between leaders?” the young man looked smugly in Junmyeon’s direction. Minseok knew it was nothing more than a test.

And for the first time in a very long time, Minseok opened his mouth to speak, “We all know why we are here. Whether or not the talks proceed with or without the Captain himself is none of your concern, and frankly, is not within any sort of galactic stipulations. So, you are just going to have to deliberate with the hand picked team the Captain sent.”

Junmyeon was frozen in place at Minseok’s side. The room had fallen so quiet that you could probably hear a pin drop. 

“I know a lot about you, Kim Minseok,” the leader pronounced, “You’re a coward, one that hides behind his second-in-command, and treats his subordinates like they are nothing more than chess pieces...pawns in a much bigger fight...what kind of leader does that make you?”

Minseok was well aware of his reputation, and was not at all surprised to find out that this man decided that this would be his first line of attack, considering that a reputation was really all a man had. Especially those in this line of work. The matter of the fact was that he was right. Minseok was a coward. Despite his military upbringing and discipline, he had always been considered soft, regardless of his rough exterior. It was that softness that lost him so many important people in the end, and Minseok would always feel responsible for those losses. He gripped the arm of his chair until his knuckles turned as white as the station walls. He could feel the muscle in his jaw flare with a vague anger. He was vaguely aware that Junmyeon was carrying on the talks with the delegation on the other side of the table, and yet Minseok heard nothing. It was as if someone had stuffed his ears with cotton, until Junmyeon slammed his fist on the table.

“And what of the ice mines?” Junmyeon hardly ever raised his voice, and Minseok was the first to be taken aback. “How do you explain your actions on Neptune?” 

Junmyeon’s hand slid off of the table as he leaned further back in his chair. He was setting his trap, pushing them into a corner, and Minseok knew it. Yet, it was these sort of plans that always went south. They were a huge risk, with a lot of room left for deception. 

“Tell me,” Junmyeon spoke with the most lethal quiet that Minseok had ever known. He was convinced that Junmyeon could get a confession out of just about anyone with that voice. “How do you justify killing nearly four thousand people?”

That man across the table could not look more smug at a moment like this, and he had the audacity to chuckle as he straightened his back in the chair. “Have any of you ever been slaved away in an ice mine like that?”

Minseok’s heart caught in his throat. He knew all too well the horrors that came with the ice mines of Neptune. Long before the Captain, the very same one that Minseok worked for now, the former Captain that held an iron grip on his own father believed that as long as people were able to walk and talk, they could work, regardless of their age. It was at the ripe age of five that Minseok was handed one of those ice pick axes, and dragged to the mines with the rest of the neighborhood children. Minseok never knew how cold a heart could get until he left those mines for good ten years later to continue what his father began. 

“If you have, then you know just how miserable it actually is,” the pirate leader folded his hands on the table and locked eyes with Minseok. “And if you have experienced something like that, then you realize that those individuals are being slaved away at the expense of this corrupt government system. We were merely trying to free them from slavery.”

“By killing them.” 

The nameless leader flinched. It was the first crack in his pathetic excuse for a visual defense. “It is men like you who are feeding the irreversible damage that will be brought upon yourselves, it is my intent to free the people from that same fate.”

Minseok almost couldn’t believe his ears, and he wished that it was a deception, “You killed four thousand people. Innocent mothers, fathers...children. Do you intend to wipe the galaxy clean of everything until it is just you?”

Minseok’s eyes felt as if they were on fire, and he wish that he could have done something to wield that ability. It was a good thing he had Park Chanyeol then. 

“If that is what I must to do rid it of you…” Team ACE had been pinned to their seats, pinned by the unlawful actions of a rogue pirate. “Then I would do whatever it takes. An empty galaxy would be better than a galaxy filled with law-abiding, government-supporting men like you.”

Minseok couldn’t help but be distracted by how much Kyungsoo had been distracted during the meeting thus far. He dared to tear his eyes away from the sociopath that sat across the table from him and to where Kyungsoo’s eyes were drawn. The same windowless door, but not just that. His eyes were dashing and darting back and forth between that forsaken door and the ceiling. Minseok pondered the sort of disturbances that Kyungsoo had been so focused on. Considering that this was the infamous pirate lord that has been stirring up so much commotion the last half decade, he figured there were probably guards of some sort securing the only entrance and exit of this room. For the matters of the ceiling, Minseok was at a loss for words. They were secured on the highest floor the station was capable of. 

Junmyeon cleared his throat as he pulled the leather bound file folder from his lap, ACE’s peace treaty terms secured inside, “We will give you two options. You and your delegation will sign our peace terms, willingly hand over any and all information related to the events that occurred over the span of the last decade...and this does include the confidential stealth team you have developed over the same span of time.”

The face of the pirate that sat across the table from them began to twist and break free from the facade that had been masking the truth underneath. Red hot anger ran across his face in the matter of seconds.

“If you do all of this, the Captain is willing to pardon any and all crimes that have been committed against ACE and it’s citizens, with a few minor conditions. If you refuse, ACE has prepared a bounty with your name on it and anyone who may be involved with you and your cause.” 

The pirate lord couldn’t keep himself from twiddling his thumbs as he looked back and forth between both flanks of the delegation. Whatever silent communication was occurring between the various men in front of them, Minseok couldn’t tell whether it meant that things were going to shift in their favor or if things were about to turn to shit, until that very leader stood from his seat and the rest of the delegation followed in tow. 

“This is a life changing decision for us,” the leader glanced at each of the members of team ACE. “If you would just give us a moment to deliberate, we’ll deliver our answer to you.”

Before Junmyeon, or any other member of team ACE, could protest, the party was already out the door, and it was Kyungsoo who was the first to speak when the electric door sealed tightly behind them. 

“We can’t trust them. There is something going on here, and it definitely isn’t anything peaceful.”

Sehun let out a very long breath, as if he hadn’t breathed at least once since the meeting began. Minseok stood so fast that it knocked the rolling chair backwards at a speed faster than light. He turned to face Kyungsoo at the same time Junmyeon jumped up from his seat, “You are going to tell me what had you so damn distracted throughout the whole meeting, and don’t even think about leaving anything out.”

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes and sank further into his seat, “Min—”

“No!” Minseok slammed a fist down on the table, “Do you realize that this was our chance to end this all. Today. Right here. But those god damned pirates were on to you the whole time. Your suspicions.”

Minseok pushed himself away from the table, away from Kyungsoo. “We were supposed to put up a secure front, Kyungsoo. And yet, you confirmed their dominance over us by doubting our—”

Before Minseok could get the last words out from his mouth, blood curdling screams could be heard from beyond that sealed door. It surprised Minseok to see Chanyeol get from his chair and started toward the door with Sehun close in tow. 

It took all of one second. And in between the milliseconds that it took Chanyeol to press the button that would unseal that door and reveal the horrors that were beyond it, Chanyeol and Sehun flew tens of feet from that very door, which that pirate lord exited through just moments ago, and against the wall that Junmyeon had pushed Minseok into for cover. The blast of the bomb had sent Kyungsoo flying and crashing into Sehun, who had been rendered semi-unconscious. 

As the smoke cleared from the area, Minseok could hear the unfamiliar coughing and gagging of someone a few feet away from them. Junmyeon stood from the crouched position he had assumed to cover Minseok from the debris that shot through that door, and after taking several steps closer to that large, white table he halted. 

“Chanyeol,” Junmyeon turned to where Chanyeol was stumbling his way up the wall for support, “Chanyeol, get up. Kyungsoo, get over here and help me.”

Minseok furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at Junmyeon and the words that fell from his mouth. As Minseok went to grab the rail that had been secured to the wall and hoist himself up to see what Junmyeon had seen, he couldn’t help but noticed the giant, gaping hole that had formed in the middle of the ceiling. Disoriented, Minseok’s eyes followed the natural assumption of something falling through to spot a man.

A  _ man _ . A young man, writhing in pain, sprawled across that oversized table which had collapsed due to impact. There was something familiar about his face, one that Minseok couldn’t click into place in his mind. Out of the corner of his eye, Minseok noticed Chanyeol making small charges toward Junmyeon...no, that man. 

Junmyeon placed his hand on Chanyeol’s shoulder and squeezed it in what seemed to be encouragement, “Grab him and let’s go. We need to get as far away from here as we possibly can.” 

Junmyeon rushed over to where Sehun was slowing yet surely regaining some sense of consciousness, but Minseok knew that he wasn’t going to be leaving here on his own without any help. Minseok scrambled to his feet and secured an arm around the waist of a deadweight Sehun, Junmyeon helping with the excess weight on Sehun’s other side. After the several moments of struggling it took to hoist Sehun up and off of the debris riddled floor, Minseok scanned the room until his eyes fell to where Chanyeol had that familiar young man tossed over his shoulder. Kyungsoo snatched the leather bound folder with the now void peace terms inside, and was the first of them to make his way out of the room and back toward the air hanger. 

It was Sehun who drew Minseok closer to him and managed to mumble, “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Don’t worry, Sehun,” Minseok squeezed Sehun’s side as a gesture of reassurance, “I’ll make sure you’re the first to hand Junmyeon his own ass.”

Minseok could feel Junmyeon’s glare from a mile away, as they pressed on through the door and towards the chaos that inspired him to lead these lambs to becoming lions. 


	4. CHAPTER 4: TEAM ROGUE

Kim Jongdae tugged down on the straps of the harness _hard_ while Jongin secured the front of the harness to his body. It was the first time in about a year since Jongdae took part in a mission from beyond the computer screen, and he didn’t want to do anything that might compromise Jongin and Baekhyun. He knew that their specialties were reconnaissance, stealth, covertness, secrecy. Jongdae did everything he could to stop comparing himself to them because he knew that he had his own important and useful set of skills that have helped them many times in the past, but it was his power that limited him from the very jobs they were employed to do. If it wasn’t for the thunder that trailed his lightning every time it was unleashed, Jongdae believed he could be of more use to the team. Yixing always did his best to reassure him that all of his contributions and accomplishments were just as or even more important than any of the things that Jongin and or Baekhyun could do put together. Jongdae found it a little hard to believe, but he always found himself agreeing for the sake of agreeing anyways.

Jongin wrapped his fingers around the straps on Jongdae’s harness and gave them a quick tug to make sure that they were secure enough. Jongin looked through his lashes long enough for Jongdae to notice, “You have your tracker and microphone?”

Jongdae nodded quickly as he delved deep into his pockets and lifted the cylindrical tracking device that roughly mimicked the size of a bullet. By the time missions like these were over, he always discovered that his tracker would have gone missing. He had been scolded for it over and over again, and it wasn’t like he had been purposefully trying to lose the tracker either, it was just that somewhere along the way he assumed it fell out of his pockets.

Baekhyun climbed down from the bunked beds that lined the wall of their reconnaissance ship, going straight for the boots he had discarded the other day when they returned from their Neptune mission. He had those boots on his feet in a matter of seconds as the ship clicked into place within the air hanger of Callisto’s space station. Jongdae had been to this station a number of times in the past, but only long enough for him to get a layout of the station’s lowest level. He shoved the tracker back into his pocket and triple checked that he had everything that Jongin and Baekhyun usually carried on them. Since Jongdae was typically tucked behind a computer screen during these stealth operations, he felt weighed down by both the gear and the responsibility that came with the job.

Yixing shuffled into the crowded space and gave a vague look of reassurance to the three men who were about to venture on one of their most dangerous missions yet. Yixing reassured Jongdae that he would be able to stay back and take care of the surveillance system. For whatever reason, it had been decided that Jongdae would be the one to recover all information that was going to be exchanged between the two parties that were going to be meeting in utmost secrecy. It was something he had done a variety of times several years ago, but when Alpha discovered that Jongdae’s true talent had been hacking, he had been pulled from all field missions and secured behind that ever familiar computer screen while his team members—his best friends—were risking their lives beyond that screen. Jongdae spent that year hacking into highly advanced government computer systems in an effort for their cause to remain one step ahead. However, Jongdae’s skill set wasn’t merely limited to hacking computers, but breaking into highly secure and critical, yet dangerous locations, as well. Discovery promised you your grave, especially if you were assigned to Team Rogue.

Team Rogue had been constructed nearly a year after the spike in pirate related activity occurred. Yixing was the first to be recruited and from there was assigned the task to train and hand-pick a select few individuals who would build the basis for the most lethal stealth warriors in the galaxy. Jongdae was selected shortly after Jongin, but not too long before Baekhyun. Jongdae would be the first to admit that he was not on the same level of breaking and entering as Baekhyun, but his slenderness allowed him to fit in most spaces that Jongin and Baekhyun couldn’t. He firmly believed that his skillset was more suited for hacking, especially since his power provided him the means for short circuiting. It was nothing as special or intricate as teleportation or light manipulation, but Yixing had discovered a way that he could help, and Jongdae had been grateful.

Jongin walked off behind Jongdae and was instantly replaced by Baekhyun, who clasped his hand around Jongdae’s neck, his voice a low whisper, “If you even remotely believe that you are in any kind of danger, you send me _our_ signal, do you understand?”

Jongdae nodded shallowly against Baekhyun’s grip.

“As long as you have that tracker on you, Jongin will be able to sweep in and grab you. So make sure you keep it on you at all times.” It was one of the very few limits that Jongin’s power had. Location. If he was going to teleport somewhere, then he needed a precise location that he would be capable of winnowing to. If he didn’t his powers would merely kick back.

Jongdae could feel Baekhyun’s slim fingers brushing the back of his neck in that way he always would when he knew Jongdae was nervous. Jongdae’s eyes fluttered closed for a short second before he heard Yixing clearing his throat, signalling that it was time for them all to get into position. Mistakes would not be tolerated on a mission like this, and Jongdae would do anything to protect Baekhyun from anything that might threaten him. Baekhyun pulled Jongdae into his chest and they fastened their arms around one another for a short few seconds. Jongdae could hear the vague footsteps of Yixing walking away, and toward that computer which was as familiar to Jongdae as the back of his hand.

Baekhyun was the first to pull away, and looked Jongdae in the eye, “Our signal. Remember.”

Jongdae gave him a vague nod as Baekhyun stalked off down the ramp of the fighter and after Jongin.

“Good luck,” he whispered after them.

Jongdae had checked a total of four times now to make sure that he had everything he needed. When he was completely sure he was ready, he shot Yixing a curt nod and made his way down the ramp into the haze of uncertainty that this day would bring.

~

It had been approximately twenty minutes since Baekhyun had left Jongdae standing at the edge of their reconnaissance fighter to join Jongin is setting up the materials that Alpha handed off to them. The Callisto station was unusually busy for a day that officials from all corners of the galaxy were going to be meeting, and because of the commotion, Baekhyun knew he was going to have to do some actual work today. Their job as stealth operatives required that they work while being unseen, and it was a real convenience to Alpha that Baekhyun was a light manipulator. Although the majority of Rogue’s mission were typically the kind where Baekhyun was capable of hiding easily in plain sight, but this particular mission called for any and all measures of deception. They could not afford being caught today.

Since Jongin was unable to mask himself from the oncoming traffic of the Callisto station attendants, Baekhyun would bend the light in ways that would guarantee Jongin’s complete invisibility. It was a skill Baekhyun had mastered at the young age of ten.

Baekhyun followed Jongin closely as they slipped through a side door that uncovered various flights of stairs. It was covert enough for Baekhyun to let the light fall back into its original space. Jongin and Baekhyun began taking the stairs two at a time, and then after a while they had enough adrenaline to take them three at a time. As they reached the top, it really was Baekhyun’s luck that he caught the last stair and fell forward into Jongin’s back. Jongin was panting as he turned to catch Baekhyun’s arm to keep him from falling backwards into the stairs.

“Are you okay, Baek?” Jongin gave him a once over before pulling him onto the platform above the stairs.

Baekhyun briefly nodded before reaching behind his back to check on the sensitive condition of the pack that had been strapped there. “We’re good.”

Jongin glanced between the pack and the door that separated them from the task at hand. Baekhyun took a deep breath, gripped the handle of the door, and made his way into the hallway. The first thing Baekhyun noticed when they both entered the hallway was the giant white door that towered over them. He could feel his heartbeat pulsing in his throat when he realized they were standing in front of the room that separated them and Alpha.

“Okay,” Jongin breathed, “Let’s do this quickly and get out of here before Alpha notices that we are still here.”

When Alpha had assigned this mission to Rogue, he made it abundantly clear that he didn’t care about how they were going to plant the device. His only condition was that they were not allowed to be spotted by him or anyone else. They were not allowed to be seen going in, preparing the device, or leaving. Baekhyun knew that being caught meant severe punishment, and he would not allowed Alpha to lay a hand on Yixing, Jongin, or Jongdae, even if it meant costing him his own life.

Baekhyun carefully unstrapped the pack that had been strategically placed onto his back, and set it on the cold, clean floor. After placing the case on the floor, he took multiple steps back in order for Jongin to work. It was not everyday that Team Rogue was given a mission that included the handling of explosive devices, and even though the bomb Alpha had delivered to them would not do any detrimental damage to the space station itself, it was ultimately his goal to seriously injure the delegates beyond that door. Jongin worked quickly and quietly as Baekhyun warped the light around them to give them some veil of cover. Baekhyun took several paces away from Jongin, and pressed the button that activated the microphone that had been placed in his ear.

“Jongdae, are you there?” Baekhyun lowered his voice to a hushed whisper, there were no guarantees that both parties beyond that door were unable to hear them from their side of the door. He lifted his hand from the microphone and waited several moments.

Baekhyun could feel the sweat streaking down the side of his face as the moments passed and turned into minutes. “Jongdae, do you copy?”

Nothing.

Baekhyun turned to glance at Jongin, who stopped to convey the confusion that was most likely lingering in his mind. Jongin looked away and stuck the device to the side of the wall, right next to the door’s control panel, and started playing with several buttons and wires. Baekhyun could feel his the pace of his heartbeat speed up as he continued to hear nothing in his ear. He clicked down on the microphone again and began tapping.

Tap.

Pause.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Pause.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The code. _Their_ code, and Baekhyun could not just let the long moments continue to pass. He stifled the sigh that threatened the escape from his throat, and took several steps back toward Jongin, “Yixing, where—”

Baekhyun and Jongin froze when the door flew open, Alpha leading his team of political advisors from the room. _Shit_. Shit. SHIT. Baekhyun swallowed the words and did not dare to move as he slowly looked in Jongin’s general direction. As the door clicked closed, Baekhyun panicked as Alpha slowed his walk to a halt and without turning sent a seemingly invisible Baekhyun stumbling into Jongin with the swiftest backhand he hadn’t seen coming.

“You’re dead.” Alpha mumbled before stalking away. The rest of his party following suit with no hesitation.

Baekhyun rubbed his burning cheek as he turned to see a horrified Jongin. “What—what is it?”

“Baekhyun, we need to get out of here...now.”

“Wait, hold on, what are you talking about?”

Baekhyun watched the adam's apple of Jongin’s throat bobbed up and down as Jongin took a step to the side to reveal the bomb that was fifteen seconds from detonating.

“SHIT!” He hadn’t cared anymore if people saw them or not. They had been caught, and now he was gripping Jongin’s wrist and running for lives that were already over.

~

Jongdae had managed to secure an access point into the conference room through an external air vent, and after nearly ten minutes of body-aching crawling, he had found himself hovering above the targeted room. He wondered how Baekhyun and Jongin were doing on their end of things, but he knew there was no use in worrying about them, considering they carried out most missions to a tee. They were probably the only stealth team with a clean record.

Jongdae waited several minutes in agonizing quiet, waiting for any sign that Baekhyun and Jongin had completed their part of the mission. He continued crawling until he found a vent that looked to be situated directly above the conference room table. Jongdae caught his breath and froze as he spotted the foreign delegation that had set this appointment, and it wasn’t until Jongdae had nearly locked eyes with one of their party members did he realize how much he could put their team in jeopardy for failure. The fact that someone was seemingly suspicious of the events going on outside of this room solidified all of Jongdae’s worries.

Where were Baekhyun and Jongin? Were they outside that towering door? Did they get lost? If they were beyond that door, then they were doing a pretty damn good job at being diligently quiet.

For a long moment Jongdae heard static coming from the device that was in his ear, and before he knew it, the static faded. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Was Baekhyun in trouble? Did Yixing see something? The anticipation and confusion started to settled in the depths of Jongdae’s mind, kicking his adrenaline up to an uncomfortable level. The static faded in and out several times within a matter of minutes, and when the device when quiet all together, Jongdae found it difficult to control his breathing.

“—DAE!...”

Baekhyun’s voice cut through the silence like a red hot knife through plastic. Jongdae’s body knocked into the side of the air duct, and it took everything in him to keep from making a sound loud enough for the enemy delegation to hear.

“...OUT….THERE….GET….NOW!”

Jongdae felt his heart sink into his stomach, and before he could even attempt to put the words together, he was free falling. The next thing he knew, he slammed into something solid and it gave beneath him. The hot, searing pain ran up his spine, up his neck and his head snapped back to collide with the hard surface There were stars exploding behind his eyelids and a deep pain shooting through his skull. The impact had knocked the wind out of him, and he found himself coughing and choking on air that wasn’t even there.

“Grab him,” Jongdae heard a far-away, unfamiliar voice demand. It was at this very moment that Jongdae knew that no one would be coming for him. If Jongin had been given Jongdae’s location, he would have been here moments ago, but there was nothing. No one. He was on his own.  


	5. CHAPTER 5: TEAM

 

Kim Minseok was not impulsive. He didn’t have an impulsive bone in his body; he liked everything being organized and calculated to a tee. It made him feel secure in this leadership role that had been shoved down his throat all of those years ago. But the presence of that young man slumped over in the chair directly across from him, strapped down, and knocked-out cold, frustrated Minseok just as much as the condition of his own men. He received no fulfillment in letting that man sleep, and Minseok knew he probably shouldn’t have let him sleep in fear that he might have gained a concussion as a result of the significant impact of bone to table. 

Minseok pushed himself up from the metal bench he had perched himself on hours ago, releasing a sigh as he reluctantly dragged his feet away from the unconscious stealth operative. He turned to steal one last glance at the young man before shutting and locking the door behind him.  _ What is your story? What is it that you know?  _ Minseok let out a frustrated sigh as he came face to face with Kyungsoo, who had been sitting on the ground outside of the interrogation room. 

“Kyungsoo...” Minseok jumped as his back crashed against the door, “Are you okay? How are Sehun and Chanyeol doing?”

Kyungsoo dragged himself from the floor and began walking in the direction of where he knew Sehun and Chanyeol would be waiting for them. Minseok followed close behind, and when Sehun and Chanyeol appeared in his field of vision, he had felt something deep within that cold heart of his. The first thing he noticed was that they looked absolutely exhausted. It looked as if they were lifelessly trekking through the main deck. Of the two, Sehun looked the worst, slumped over against the wall behind the conference table. At least Chanyeol was up and walking around; Minseok wasn’t surprised by this in the least considering how stubborn and hyperactive Chanyeol could be. 

“We have been waking them up every couple of hours or so,” Kyungsoo whispered under his breath, loud enough for Minseok to hear, but quiet enough to keep the information from Chanyeol and Sehun. “Chanyeol got lucky and avoided hitting his head, so he evaded the concussion that Sehun is currently struggling with, and only has to deal with a set of deeply bruised ribs and a sprained ankle and wrist. Regardless, we are waking them up at the same time often so that Chanyeol can get up and move around to prevent soreness. Sehun, on the other hand, isn’t doing as well as Chanyeol. He really took the brunt force of the impact when the bomb had gone off, and it was his head that was first to collide with the wall.”

Minseok felt sicker and sicker as Kyungsoo continued to recount the events that happened in that room only one day ago. Not only that, but it made his blood boil knowing that one of the four men that had provoked Sehun’s discomfort was sitting several doors away from them. “I need you to go get Junmyeon. Both of you get into that room and wake his ass up. I want answers. Now.”

A muscled flared in Kyungsoo’s cheek, but walked off without question anyways. Minseok took slow and quiet steps toward Sehun. He settled himself down on a chair directly next to Sehun, who was breathing steadily, face contorted with discomfort. It made Minseok’s heart ache to see the youngest of them suffering more than the rest of them, and he knew that it should have been him instead. He knew he should have been the one who went to check on the commotion that had ensued beyond that door, but before he could step in, the damage had been done. Chanyeol slowly backtracked from the cockpit of the 326 to where Minseok had taken a seat beside Sehun; his face twisted as he crouched down in front of Sehun, placing a hand on his knee, gently shaking the younger.

“Sehun,” Chanyeol gently called out. “Sehun, you should get up, walk around for a little bit.”

Both Minseok and Chanyeol knew it wouldn’t take much to stir Sehun from the half-sleep that had engulfed him. Whenever they were confined to the 326 for missions, Sehun could never sleep well; his mind was always too preoccupied with worry whenever someone else took over the flying for him. Sehun’s eyes fluttered open slowly, taking a moment to adjusted to the harshness of the overhead lights, making a face at Chanyeol for even bothering to wake him up. 

Minseok placed his hand gently on Sehun’s shoulder, “How are you holding up?”

Sehun buried his head in his hands, shielding his eyes  as he slowly doubled over, elbows resting on his knees, “Well unless there were just two Chanyeol’s sitting in front of me, then I’m great.”

Chanyeol lightly chuckled as he wrapped an arm under Sehun’s armpit, slowly dragging him up from the seat. Sehun didn’t fight back or do anything to resist Chanyeol, he merely let Chanyeol drag him around the main deck until Junmyeon appeared in the hall archway. Junmyeon’s presence was enough to launch Minseok from the seat, following him back down that hallway. 

“Is he awake yet?” Minseok halted when the sound of Junmyeon’s feet fell out of sync with his own, turning to see Junmyeon several feet away.

“I don’t know what came over me when I make that decision, but we should have left him Minseok.” Junmyeon looked more conflicted than Minseok had ever seen him before, “We should have left him there. He wasn’t our problem to begin with and now we are completely responsible for him.”

“Name?”

Something like anger flickered across Junmyeon’s face before he let out an aggravated sigh, “Kim Jongdae. Twenty-six years old. He’s been working for their leader, Alpha is his name, for over five years now as a stealth operative a part of a team that was designed to be deployed on covert, highly classified missions. These guys are no joke. All of those profiles from the operation card, that’s them. That’s his team.”

Minseok took a moment to process this information. It suddenly made a lot of sense as to why Jongdae looked so familiar to him once the smoke cleared in that conference room at the Callisto station. 

Junmyeon began pacing in the middle of the narrow hallway, and Minseok could have sworn he saw the outline of Sehun’s head disappear from around the corner, “Minseok, do you understand what this means? It means that we have made ourselves public enemy number one in the eyes of these space pirates! This news is bound to get back to them, if it hasn’t already.”

Minseok took a long while during his intensive one-sided staring contest with Jongdae to consider the repercussions that would most likely come with kidnapping a stranger. It really turned out to be shitty luck that Jongdae was affiliated with the pirate lord, and even more than that, this elaborate and highly-skilled reconnaissance team. Junmyeon huffed at Minseok’s silence and pushed on into the interrogation room. Minseok couldn’t help but feel as if a raging storm were headed his way. 

When Minseok walked into that room, he could feel the atmosphere dripping with tension that was on a level he had never experience before, and when he made eye contact with Kim Jongdae for the first time, that tension dissipated without a trace. The first thing that Minseok noticed about Jongdae was how much he looked like shit, and he couldn’t prevent the loose chuckle that escaped his lips, triggering a wave of confused looks. In the split second it took his to recover, Kim Jongdae scoffed and looked to Kyungsoo.

He held open his restrained hand to Kyungsoo, palm up while squirming a bit in the seat, “Please, hold my dignity, because I have a feeling I’m about to say some really shitty things.”

“Well, good morning to you, too,” Minseok’s voice rained and poured sarcasm as he folded his arms to his chest, “you pitch black ray of sunshine.”

Jongdae glanced between Junmyeon and Kyungsoo for any sign that Minseok might have not been serious, but quickly gave up after seeing the blank looks that were painted across their faces. When Jongdae’s eyes met with Minseok’s again, Minseok could feel his blood beginning to boil, but he knew better than to let an enemy agent get the better of him. Although, based on the smugness that was written across Jongdae’s face, maybe he already had. One look from Junmyeon had Minseok sitting on one of the various chairs that had been placed across the room from Jongdae. Kyungsoo settled for the metal bench that had been adjacent to where Minseok sat, at the same time Junmyeon had pushed himself off of the wall to stand several feet in front of Jongdae. 

“ _ I  _ am going to ask you several questions,” Junmyeon prefaced as he pulled a tape recorder from his pocket. “It is with your best interests in mind to cooperate to the best of your ability.”

Given Jongdae’s current condition, it was hard to tell how long he would last during an interrogation with circumstances like this. If not Kyungsoo, then Minseok would be the first to realize that Jongdae was most likely suffering from a much worse concussion than Sehun. He could only imagine what the impact of his body against that thick table felt like. He probably felt as shitty as he looked, maybe even worse. The harsh lighting would be of no help taming the temper than burned beneath that skin.

Jongdae’s face twisted and contorted with whatever pain was ravaging his body before leaning his head against the headrest of the chair, eyes locked on Junmyeon. A silent invitation. 

“Is your name Kim Jongdae?” It was highly likely that this was more of an assertion, a pretty good one if Minseok was concerned, on Junmyeon’s part after spending those four days practically memorizing the ins-and-outs of this team’s profiles. 

“Yes.” No hesitation.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-six.”

“Occupation?”

Jongdae squirmed a bit against whatever discomfort he was feeling before letting out a frustrated whine, “Why are you asking me if you already know?”

“I want to hear it come from you.”

Minseok could have sworn he saw Jongdae roll his eyes, “I am a stealth operative that works for a man who goes by the name of Alpha—and before you ask, no, I don’t know what his real name is—my specialty is hacking.” 

This took Minseok by surprise. In no world did it make sense for someone who looked like Kim Jongdae to be even remotely associated with someone who worked in stealth, let alone being directly involved; for his specialty to be hacking meant that he had a notably valuable skill set that Minseok intended on taking advantage of. It’s always the ones you never expect.

Junmyeon dragged on of the chairs from the wall and sat down, “How many of there are you?”

“Four, including me.”

“Is it true that you can wield an elemental power?”

Jongdae rolled his neck from one side to the other, “Yes.”

“What is it?”

“Lighting, but it has its limitations.”

“And that is?”

Jongdae flexed the muscles in his hands and grunted against the pain that was most likely pounding against his skull, “What comes with lightning? Thunder. Whenever I unleash that lightning, the thunder tends to give away my position, and for a stealth agent, this is not necessarily ideal. Don’t you agree?

Minseok knew that all of them dealt with things that put limits on their power, and if not a limitation then something about it that frustrated them to no end.

“What kind of assignment were you on when you fell through the ceiling?”

Jongdae scoffed, “Like I’d tell you.”

Minseok could see the muscles in Junmyeon’s back flex in confusion, “You’ve been so cooperative up until now.”

“Yeah, well, things don’t always go as they should.”

Junmyeon slouched a bit in his seat, arms folded across his abdomen. Minseok studied the blank expression that draped Jongdae’s face like a veil, as if the pain had been wiped away, as if it had all been an act. Even though he knew that no one, not even Kim Jongdae, could fake the pain and the after effects that came with spontaneously falling through a ceiling. Yet, it dawned on Minseok that there was something deeper beneath the surface, something lingering in that foggy mind of the man that sat in front of him. 

It was Kyungsoo who broke the piercing silence as Junmyeon attempted to collect his thoughts, “And what of the other members of your team? Why was it only you?”

Minseok’s eyes never left Jongdae as the four of them sat in that unbearable silence. It was becoming abundantly clear that Jongdae was no longer going to give them to answers that they needed—answers that he needed. They needed a new angle, something, anything, that would provoke him into confessing. What could be so important about this assignment that he was willing to protect it to this degree? Minseok didn’t believe in torture methods as a first resort in any interrogation, but his already worn-down patience was wearing even thinner and it seemed like a very attractive option if this was the road that Jongdae was going to go down. Junmyeon had been excessively silent for much longer than Minseok anticipated, and it was unusual for Junmyeon to be at a loss for words. He always had something. 

“If you’re a hacker, then what do the rest of your team members do?” Kyungsoo pushed. 

It was as if Jongdae had forgotten how to hear, had forgotten how to speak. It was instantaneous deafness, and Minseok could feel the pre-existing rage building on top of itself. Kim Jongdae wasn’t an idiot, he knew when and where to pick his battles, a lesson that most spies are taught very early on. Sometimes it was better to save your breath and what little energy you have left than to fight a lost cause, and to some degree, this was how Minseok was currently feeling. Kyungsoo loosed some frustrated sounding noise from a his throat, stood from the bench, and stormed out of the room, leaving Junmyeon and Minseok to clean up the mess. 

They all sat there for another several minutes in that deafening silence until Junmyeon calmly stood from his seat and took exactly one step closer to Jongdae, “What do you think Baekhyun would say if he were here?”

The name seemed familiar to Minseok, and it was his own wild guess that this Baekhyun was most likely one of Jongdae’s team members, and that he was going to be the key to the success of this entire interrogation, because Junmyeon and Minseok got the one answer they were looking for at the mentioning of that name. 

A flinch. It was subtle but the only answer Minseok needed to know that Kim Jongdae was doing all of this to protect his team members, and Minseok could understand why. He thought about Sehun and Chanyeol, both most likely went back to resting, and hopefully Kyungsoo was out there keeping an eye on them. Minseok knew that if any considerable, more serious, harm had some to either of them, he would have gone to the ends of the universe to make their assailant pay. It is more than likely than Jongdae would do the same. 

“Listen here, you punk,” Minseok stood from his seat and joined Junmyeon at the center of the room, “You might be thinking in that peanut-sized brain of yours that you are doing what is best for your team members, but the fact of the reality is that they are safe right now. They are not in your position, and if you want it to stay that way, you’ll give us the answers that we are looking for.”

Jongdae scoffed, veil finally being drawn back like a curtain, and resumed his incessant squirming as he whispered, “You can go to hell.”

Jongdae had shut his eyes for a brief moment, and it was in that short moment that Minseok decided that he couldn’t stand to look at him anymore. He cleared his throat, took several steps and threw the door open; he looked back at Junmyeon before leaving and huffed, “Take care of this.”

Minseok slammed the door on the way out. He could only imagine the pain and irritation that racked in Jongdae’s brain because of it. However, he couldn’t find the room in his heart to care, because right now the only thing Minseok cared about was what other secrets were being held on the profiles that were being stored on that mission operation card. He fell into a steady pace, and made his way toward the hidden gem that had been in plain sight all along.  


	6. CHAPTER 6: TEAM ROGUE

Baekhyun and Jongin firmly believed that there was no air left to breathe by the time they reached Yixing, who was frantically pacing at the entrance of the ship, waiting for them. Baekhyun was doing his best to gulp down as much air as he could in order to feed his burning lungs. It hadn’t really crossed Baekhyun’s mind that Jongin was more than fully capable of teleporting them away from the bomb, he had been more focused on saving their lives. Yixing dashed down the ramp and flung his arms around the two agents.

“Are you guys okay?” Yixing took a step back to quickly observe both men. “What happened?”

Jongin collapsed onto the floor at Yixing’s feet, taking some time to catch his breath. Baekhyun shut his eyes for a long moment, “He caught us.”

The words felt more like a death sentence than anything else. They all knew what being caught would mean for them, and it wouldn’t be long now until Alpha went out of his way to seek them out. It took Baekhyun several more moments for him to finally return to reality, and in the moments it took him to gather all of the thoughts that had been running through his mind, Jongin pushed himself up from the floor and trailed Yixing as they climbed up the ramp and into the space fighter. 

Baekhyun could feel the ramp lifting as he pressed further in the fighter. His muscles were aching with each step he took; he would rather have fallen over dead than suffer through the burning aches that poked and prodded at every inch of his body. Baekhyun could hear Jongin’s body collide on to his respective cot with a loud thud, and it took everything in his body not to do the same. 

Baekhyun watched as Yixing surveyed the surveillance cameras that Jongdae had tapped into a few hours prior to the chaos that had ensued. He could see the Callisto station attendants clearing the wreckage that now laid in that deserted conference room. They might have partially failed their mission, but they did what they were asked to do regardless of the circumstances. Yixing loosed a long and frustrated sigh as he clicked out of the live video footage, “We can’t stay here. We can’t be doing these kinds of things anymore.”

Baekhyun could feel the puzzled expression on his face forming as his leader vaguely spoke, “What are you talking about?”

“You and I both know that everything Alpha has been doing is wrong,” Yixing sank into the computer chair and swivelled to eye Baekhyun, “Everything he has been doing lately, it goes against everything that we originally signed on for all of those years ago. The only reason I put up with any of it is so that I can save each of you from a far less painful fate.”

Baekhyun wasn’t sure if he had words for what Yixing was attempting to insinuate. He knew better than anyone if they attempted to leave, Alpha would spend the rest of his days hunting them across the galaxy. They knew too much, and they were too valuable of an asset, whether Alpha wanted to admit it or not. Baekhyun knew Alpha’s defense mechanism was to make empty threats; he couldn’t do anything without Rogue, it’s the only reason none of them were dead. Even if he did decide to disband Rogue, he was never going to be able to find a better ragtag team of individuals who were willing to blindly do his dirty work—at least not as well as Baekhyun, Jongin, Jongdae, and Yixing. They were the best of the best in this line of work. In addition to all of that, there was no way Alpha could hire and train a brand new team in such a short amount of time. He was too impatient for that nowadays. 

Baekhyun stared at his cot-sized bunk that sat at the very top of the sleeping area and decided it wasn’t worth the energy to climb, settling for the cool metal bench that helped to calm his overheated skin instead. Jongin cleared his throat and threw an arm over his eyes to shield himself from the light that spilled over them from the overhead lights. “Jongdae, what was up with your equipment today? Why didn’t you answer?”

Baekhyun noticed the immediate silence that filled their surroundings. Jongdae couldn’t have knocked out that quickly could he? Baekhyun shot up from the bench and looked around the ship’s cabin and was highly sensitive to the fact that there were only two other men sitting in front of him.

“Jongdae?” Baekhyun called out, suddenly recharged by Jongdae’s lacking presence. 

“Yixing, where is he?” Jongin sat up from his cot and made his way over to the computer where Yixing was pulling up the status of Jongdae’s tracker. 

Kim jongdae » Status: offline.

Baekhyun could feel the adrenaline in his body kick up at the sight of those words that were splayed across the screen.

Offline.

Jongdae would never intentionally turn off his tracker, it was the only thing linking the team to one another whenever they worked missions like these. 

“Maybe—maybe he just lost his tracker again and he’s on his way back to the ship as we speak,” Jongin attempted to reason as he placed a comforting hand on the back of Baekhyun’s neck. 

The pace of Baekhyun’s heartbeat began picking up as the seconds continued to pass in that deafening silence that replaced Jongdae.  _ Where the hell could he be? _ Baekhyun knew that something was wrong the minute Jongdae hadn’t responded back in that corridor. 

“Yixing, I need you to pull up that surveillance footage  _ now _ ,” Baekhyun stepped out of Jongin’s touch and closer to the monitor. 

“Baekhyun—”

“ _ NOW _ .”

It was unlike Baekhyun to yell when he was angry, but it wasn’t only that...he was scared to death, an intense sense of dread settling itself into the pit of his stomach and festering. His best friend was out there in that space station somewhere, and he would be and  _ had  _ to be the one to make sure he returned safely. 

“Rewind the footage,” Baekhyun barked.

This time Yixing didn’t fight back, he just did as Baekhyun demanded. He knew it would have been like arguing with a brick wall anyways. Yixing pulled up a triple split screen that allowed them to view only the footage that caught their team on camera, or rather, the only team member who was left visible. Baekhyun knew that his power could trick even the highest quality security cameras. They all watched intently as they followed Jongdae on Camera One leaving the air hanger and quickly making his way down the hallway that was caught by Camera Two. A few more minutes passed and they all watched in awe as Jongdae crawled into the tight air duct that would lead him directly to the target site; but it was from that moment onward that they were unable to keep tabs on him since cameras were not typically installed inside the air ducts. This would be the last sighting of him for who knows how long. Yixing swapped from cameras one through three to the cameras that had been recording the conference room that had been their initial target. 

Yixing watched in horror as Alpha explained his true intentions to the foreign delegation. It was all the proof Yixing needed to know that he and the rest of Rogue would be leaving today as refugees. They continued to watch up until the moment that Alpha and the rest of his lackies left the conference room, and what surprised them the most was how the leader of the foreign delegation was quick to blame the rest of his party for how the meeting had turned out. Baekhyun couldn’t help but roll his eyes. The blast from the bomb had rendered the primary camera from that room half-operational, and the moment Yixing switched from one camera to the next, Baekhyun’s heart fell into a never ending abyss. Because there he was. Jongdae falling straight through that ceiling and cracking that thick, solid table in half with the impact of his body. Baekhyun didn’t know when he sank to the floor, but it was as if all the air from his lungs had left his body all over again. 

In the midst of that slow chaos, Baekhyun heard those dreaded words: “ _ Grab him _ .”

No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. How could he have missed  _ this _ ? How could he have overlooked the lack of Jongdae’s vibrant presence? How could he have let his best friend go off alone? He was supposed to look after him, he was supposed to  _ protect  _ him. It wasn’t as if Jongdae hadn’t gone on solo missions or had been split up from the rest of the team before, but it was only a matter of time that one of them met a fate such as this because they had to go off alone. And it just had to be Jongdae. The one person whose life he valued even above his own.

Jongin helped Baekhyun up from the floor, and before he had a chance to let go, Baekhyun was charging to the ramp controls. He would be the one to bring Jongdae back, it could only be him. 

“Baekhyun.”

It was as if he had developed tunnel vision, and couldn’t see anything else other than Jongdae lying there helplessly, dangling over some government official’s shoulder to be whisked away, and most likely tortured for information. He could only hear the smack of Jongdae’s head against that table, replaying over and over again on a sick and twisted loop, as he vigorously pressed as many buttons as he could in hopes that the ramp could descend faster. 

“Baekhyun,” a desperate, far-off voice called from behind him, “Baekhyun,  _ stop _ !”

Yixing ripped Baekhyun away from the control and pinned him against the wall by his neck, “Stop before you hurt yourself, or do something you regret; you’re not going to be able to help Jongdae if you do either of those things.”

Before he could even realize what he was doing, Baekhyun lifted his leg and kicked Yixing in the stomach, practically launching him across the walkway and into the control panel. At the moment of impact, the ramp had dropped down, as if gravity had be switched into overdrive. Baekhyun took the opportunity to hurtle himself from the spacecraft and through the middle of the air hanger. He didn’t care if anyone saw him, as long as Jongdae came back to him. Safe. He felt as if he were flying as he soared across the vast span of crystal white hallways that made up the Callisto space station. He pulled his tracker from his pocket to double check to see if there were any change in the status of Jongdae’s location. 

Offline.

_ No _ . No.  _ No _ . 

He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes, and he couldn’t tell if it was because of the air that was drying out his eyes at inhumane speeds, or if it was because the heart that ached within Baekhyun’s chest was cracking the closer and closer he got to that forsaken door. 

“Please,  _ please _ ,” Baekhyun begged. He had stopped believing in any God or deity long ago but now, he found himself sending desperate pleas in hopes that someone,  _ anyone,  _ would listen, “Don’t let me be too late.”

Baekhyun could see the door that separated himself from reality and his biggest nightmare. He gulped down a breath and took off down the hallway like he were a plane in the midst of taking off down a shallow runway. It wasn’t until Baekhyun’s face connected with Jongin’s fist that he was thrown off course, his body colliding with the wall simulating a crash landing. Baekhyun rolled along that endless hallway until he was smacked face first into Yixing’s legs. 

“I’m sorry Baekhyun,” Yixing hooked his arms under Baekhyun’s armpits and threw him over his shoulder as if he were nothing more than a sack of flour. In between the chaos that ensued between the three remaining team members, Yixing must have rendered Baekhyun’s muscles useless to the point where he wasn’t able to move. 

Whoever Baekhyun had been begging and pleading to...it had been made abundantly clear that they wanted him to suffer. He promised to protect Jongdae by any means he could, and now he was paying for breaking that promise. What made Baekhyun feel even worse was that he could have sworn that he heard a whisper of Jongdae’s rich, deep voice as he teetered on the black waves of a sea of nightmares.


	7. CHAPTER 7: TEAM ACE

Kim Jongdae had been left alone in this god forsaken room with this man who called himself Kim Junmyeon. It had been clear that he had some significant position of power, he could see it in the way he carried himself. Junmyeon reached up to run a hand through his hair, all the while looking at Jongdae as if he were some oddity that had been dropped into his lap. 

“This would be a lot more comfortable for you, and for me, if you would just cooperate,” Junmyeon dragged the chair that he had pushed away moments ago, causing Jongdae to wince from the harsh noise.

“Why should I?” Jongdae had every right to remain silent. He had been strapped down into this chair, and was suffering from one of the worst concussions he’s had to date. Not only that, but he swore to himself that he’d never reveal anything about his friends if he’d been caught. 

Junmyeon walked over to the sealed door and locked it in place, and by way of surprise, he unlocked the restraints that had been holding down Jongdae’s wrists to the chair. The moment the restraints were off Jongdae was burying his head in his hands, shielding his eyes from the blinding lights. It was already hard enough for Jongdae to make out the exact color of the walls, let alone the faces of the three men that had been sitting around him. It didn’t help that the fatigue had settled itself deep in his bones. 

Junmyeon pulled the chair closer to Jongdae and sat down directly in front of him, “We are more than willing to make you as comfortable as you possibly can be in a situation like this, but let’s remember, we are on a ship, and there’s not much we can do at this moment to get you the aid that you need. Although, for now, my power—it has a healing property—and I’ll do what I can to take away whatever discomfort you are feeling...Kyungsoo told me that you have a concussion.”

“Why are you going out of your way to help me? Especially since you’d be doing it behind the backs of your team members?”

Junmyeon shook his head in rejection, “We are all human beings, Jongdae, and sometimes we are not the masters of our own fates.”

Jongdae lifted his head slightly to meet Junmyeon’s sincere eyes, and the longer they looked at each other, the less suspicion he felt about Junmyeon’s underlying motives. He nodded his head in silent acceptance. Junmyeon responded with a curt nod, stood, and walked to the locked door once again. 

He unlocked the door and walked out, leaving the door wide open. Did he really have that much faith that Jongdae wouldn’t run? Then again, Jongdae knew that he wouldn’t make it long on his own with this concussion. In addition, they were flying at ungodly speeds in the middle of open space. He knew he had nowhere to run regardless. Jongdae flexed his fingers in frustration, releasing a small dose of his power. The sparks of lightning danced in between the crevices of his fingers, the distinct blood red color of his lightning wrapping itself around the bends and folds of his hands. It was inconvenient that the thunder roared and bounced against the walls of the room at the same time Junmyeon re-entered with a medium sized bowl of water.

“Well, I guess you weren’t lying about the fact that your lightning does have this minor limitation,” Junmyeon set the bowl on a side table that had been pushed up against the opposing wall. He stalked back over and rotated Jongdae’s chair to face that same wall. “Okay, I need you to lean back, I know the chair isn’t the comfortable, but I need your head leaning up against that headrest.”

Jongdae followed the instructions that Junmyeon had given him, and it was a mercy when Jongdae realized that he was able to open his eyes fully because Junmyeon had turned down the lights in the room. He watched as Junmyeon walked over to that water-filled bowl and stretched his hand out flat on top of the water. It came as a shock to Jongdae when the water rippled and seamlessly cemented itself around Junmyeon’s hands. It didn’t even bother to drip when Junmyeon moved away from the bowl and behind Jongdae’s head. 

“Just take a deep breath and close your eyes, okay?” 

Once again, Jongdae did as he was told, and without any warning, he could feel the coolness of the water—of Junmyeon’s hands—on either side of his head. It was as if the pressure that was trapped within Jongdae’s head was slipping from his body and being absorbed by the water that defied all natural laws of physics. His body felt like it had gone numb. It was very different from any healing session that Yixing had ever performed on Jongdae. He didn’t think he could ever describe the sort of pain one had to suffer through during a healer’s healing session. He wasn’t sure if it was because Yixing’s power was raw healing power, or if it was because Junmyeon’s power was gentle, unthreatening. It felt a lot like the times that Baekhyun would run his hands through Jongdae’s hair to help him fall asleep after waking up from the nightmares that plagued him in the middle of the night. His long, slender fingers lightly massaging the sides of his scalp; and for a moment, Jongdae wasn’t sure if tears were running down the side of his face and behind his ear, or if Junmyeon had lost his focus and the water was dripping onto his skin. 

Baekhyun. He could only imagine the distress that the rest of his team was feeling, if they were feeling any at all. He knew that Baekhyun would go to the ends of the universe to protect each of his team members. Each of them knew that Baekhyun would crawl from the depths of the underworld to save Jongdae in particular, and Jongdae would have done the same. 

Baekhyun had actually done so. Years ago, when the team was just beginning and bonds were still being formed, rather than unwavering support and caring touches, sharp insults and animosity were the only things between Baekhyun and Jongdae. Their personalities were polar opposites, Jongdae nothing but meticulous and calculative on the field and Baekhyun so reckless that he would render any of Jongdae’s plans utterly useless. Jongdae had felt so out of his element, Baekhyun an irritating presence that lingered beneath his skin no matter how much he scratched at it.

On numerous occasions, Yixing had been forced to separate them to keep them from seriously injuring one another. Their powers, Jongdae’s especially, could cause extreme damage and Yixing didn’t want to expend his energy on two idiots who fought like children. Seeing how much it had stressed Yixing, their leader who they both trusted and respected, the two had begrudgingly reached a truce. The hatred was still very much present but muted under a shared responsibility. What they were fighting for was so much bigger than the two of them and ultimately, both were key and irreplaceable parts of the goal: the very goal that defined their lives and all the decisions they made.

Unbeknownst to them, as they spent more time in such close quarters, they started to chip at each other’s boundaries little by little. On Jongdae’s part, what was first hatred towards Baekhyun’s unpredictability and rashness turned into an almost admiration of the light wielder’s ability to think on the fly and turn spontaneity to his advantage. On Baekhyun’s, the vexation he felt when Jongdae briefed them on a three-part plan with an alternate plan B, C, D and also E, transformed into deep gratitude when one of those plans had saved his life and the mission, on more than one occasion. 

This newfound ‘like’ of the other had remained unadmitted, the most prominent of the few traits they shared being a strong sense of pride and nearly unrivalled stubbornness. That is until a situation arose where it could no longer be hidden that they actually began to care for one another. 

They had been sent on a mission with a higher difficulty level than usual, one which had required Jongdae to leave the comfort of his chair before the screen and into seedy cesspool that was Europa. Europa, one of Jupiter’s better known moons, was the unofficial capital of all things illegal. There, the black market thrived, rich with alien trafficking, weapons dealing, etc… Jongdae and Baekhyun had been sent to coerce a high-level weapons dealer into supplying all of those associated with Alpha. Jongin had to go off to retrieve a package for their leader.

There had been silence between the two until a snide remark from Baekhyun had resulted into a full scale argument, the first in a long while. Neither had noticed that a group of people were approaching them from all sides until it was too late. A bullet pierced through the air, and if it were not for Baekhyun’s trained reflexes, it would have gone straight through his head. 

“Cover!” Baekhyun harshly whispered at Jongdae and Jongdae responded immediately, shutting his eyes tight and covering them with his hands as Baekhyun lit up with the intensity of the sun, rendering those closest to him blind. Those further only suffered momentarily but it was enough for Jongdae and Baekhyun to begin taking them down once Baekhyun drew the light back into himself. It was easy, they had the clear advantage of sight, and down their assaillants went, one by one. It was easy, until it wasn’t, one of the enemies managing to trigger an emergency bomb placed in the foundations of the building they stood on that was meant to take Baekhyun and Jongdae out if the enemy himself couldn’t. 

The ground shook beneath their feet and the two locked eyes, dread being communicated through the look they shared. Then, the world beneath their feet tilted as the building groaned and fell to the left. They both scrambled uphill, grabbing at anything to help anchor them so they could reach the stairwell and escape. Until the building shuddered once more, and the ground beneath Jongdae’s feet gave. Jongdae knew without a doubt that he would have fallen straight through that building and into the fires that were raging quickly below them if he hadn’t taken a trick from Baekhyun’s book and eyed a metal rod that had surfaced when the building cracked in half.

“Hold on, Baekhyun! Just hold on!” Jongdae was panicking as his hand began to sweat, his grasp on that unstable metal rod was questionable, but he held on as if his life had depended on it—and it did. Not just his own life, but Baekhyun’s as well. Baekhyun had wrapped his hand around Jongdae’s wrist, and Jongdae’s around Baekhyun’s. 

Baekhyun was the only thing anchoring Jondae to this reality and he would save him, even if it meant only one of them was going to make it out of there alive. 

Jongdae could feel his grip slipping, Baekhyun’s body inching closer and closer to that blazing fire.

“Jongdae...” He looked down long enough to see the heartbreaking acceptance that had cracked the typical facade that Baekhyun put up, and his heart sank. “You and I both know that only one of us can make it out of here...it can’t be both.”

No. It couldn’t end like this, not when Jongdae had finally realized that Baekhyun was the only person capable of filling the void that his soul had been craving, “No...Baekhyun—don’t be fucking selfish. Of all the times you decide to  _ finally _ be selfish, right now will not be it, Rogue can’t afford to lose half of it’s team today, let alone its most important member.”

“Jongdae, please—”

“ _ No. _ ” Jongdae begged and pled with every fiber of his being, to whatever higher power might have been looking over them, as he felt Baekhyun’s fingers loosen around his wrist, which only enticed Jongdae to grip Baekhyun’s wrist even harder.

“Don’t you dare do this now, Jongdae, Yixing and Jongin need you— _ I  _ need you—to complete this mission!”

Jongdae’s grip on the rod faltered a bit, he could feel the blood that had been dripping from the fresh open wounds that had formed where the skin tore away. Baekhyun looked five shades of pissed off, but Jongdae couldn’t find the energy to care. The only thing that mattered was the possibility that the both of them would be walking away from this together—whether it be in life or death.

“Who gives  _ fuck _ about the mission?! Look at us!” Jongdae shrieked angrily, “What’s the point of achieving our objective if we are not there together to celebrate?! This is our dream isn’t it?  _ OUR _ dream, and I refuse to work towards that alone. So, don’t you dare give up on me now. Don’t give up on us.”

It was that moment that changed everything. It was that moment that Jongdae knew he had saved Baekhyun’s life from the fiery fate that loomed directly below them. Jongdae followed Baekhyun’s eyes as he spotted an opening in the cracked wall that had been close enough to grant Jongdae the opportunity to swing and launch Baekhyun from where he was dangling. It took all of Jongdae’s remaining strength to grip that metal rod as hard as he possibly could as Baekhyun swung his legs back and forth, offering him the momentum to fly through that wall. 

On that day, the two of them had formed an unspoken relationship with the other, an unspoken promise of sorts. They would always do what they needed in order for their team to be whole. Jongdae could feel the ache and pull of his cracked heart that longed to be with its twin flame. His best friend. Jongdae could feel his breathing hitch in the back of his throat.

Jongdae felt Junmyeon momentarily lift his hands, lightly nudging Jongdae’s neck up from the head rest to place a hand at the base of his neck, and the other on the foremost exposed part of his forehead. “Are you okay?”

Jongdae nodded against Junmyeon’s touch as he diligently continued to work. The aching in his heart shoved to the back of his mind for the time being.

“The mission we were on—” Jongdae swallowed in hesitation, “I won’t name to you any specific details, but we were assigned a mission to plant that bomb at the Callisto station. That’s all I will say about it.” 

Jongdae cracked open his eyes for a split moment to see the half-contemplative and half-understanding look that splayed across Junmyeon’s face. “I won’t press you for more information as of right now, but I want you to know that if you do decide to tell me...we can help you. That leader of yours—”

“I know…” Jongdae interjected, “he’s a complete psychopath.” 

Junmyeon shifted his hands once more, “Our team would be willing to adopt each of you, you know? If you wanted to get away. We could protect you, our organization, I mean.”

Jongdae knew very little about the chain of command that governed ACE, but he knew enough to know that Baekhyun didn’t trust anyone remotely affiliated with them. 

“What about your leader though?” Based on the way Junmyeon’s leader had been acting, he could understand Baekhyun’s distaste towards ACE. 

“Kim Minseok,” Junmyeon corrected. “He’s been in charge of this ACE subunit for a few years now. Don’t mind his attitude, that’s just how he is. He had a rough upbringing.”

Noted.

Despite Kim Minseok’s inviting exterior, the minute he opened his mouth, it was as if daggers were being flung in all directions. 

“He really is a caring person when he wants to be.”

And for some reason, Kim Jongdae found himself wanting to believe that was true.


	8. CHAPTER 8: TEAM ACE

Minseok stood at the edge of the cracked door of the interrogation room that Junmyeon had re-entered not too long before. Minseok knew that Junmyeon wasn’t just going to let Jongdae suffer in there, and to be frank, he himself wasn’t going to let the poor guy suffer either. He could see what a mere mild concussion was doing to Sehun; he could only imagine what sort of symptoms Jongdae must have been struggling with. Minseok had his fair share of concussions ever since he started work at the Neptune ice mines, and what kind of frustrations they could bring to a person. 

Minseok listened as Junmyeon solicited the Rogue team such a generous offer without consulting the rest of the ACE team. It was difficult for Minseok to decide if he was angry at Junmyeon, or relieved at the fact that the Rogue team would at least be within their ranks. Minseok wasn’t a fool, he had enough sense to admit that they would be significant assets that would benefit ACE in the areas and skill sets which they lacked. He also knew that his team was incredibly hands on; analysis and investigation were not their specialties, at least not for the majority of them. 

Something about Jongdae’s sudden cooperation with Junmyeon rubbed Minseok the wrong way. Minseok knew that he wasn’t the galaxy’s most likeable individual, and he did everything in his power to make sure it stayed that way. It had been a long time since he was able to get close to someone emotionally, not since before Team ACE’s creation. Not since Luhan. 

Before his appointment as leader of the Captain’s special subunit, he had been hired by the Captain to essentially do his dirty work. It had been a long time since Minseok had been sent on a stealth operation as an assassin, and he had been more than willing to accept the leadership position, as a way of escaping that not-so-distant past that haunted even the darkest crevices of Minseok’s soul. As a way of escaping the brutal images that flashed in his mind’s eye from time to time. 

Nearly eight years prior, Minseok had been tasked with the job to track and dispose of one of the galaxy’s former most-wanted arms dealer. He had been even wealthier than the Captain, and he was making his move to strike a deal with a foreign administration that involved the trading of weapons for bodies. Not only had this man been involved with illegal transactioning and spreading of military-grade weapons, but also had a hand in the distribution of intergalactic human trafficking. It still made Minseok sick to his stomach just thinking about it. 

It was right before he was supposed to leave to meet with the former arms dealer in an undercover sting operation, when the Captain sprung another breach in their contract, but Minseok had done too many things, seen too many things, to pick a fight with his boss. For the first time ever, the Captain suddenly decided that taking on this arms dealer was too big of a risk for Minseok to be going it alone. What if he had been caught? What if he found himself stuck in a situation where he might need assistance? As if any of those things had ever happened to him before. He knew he had been good at his job, but he didn’t realize that the Captain had that little confidence in him. He knew this arms dealer wouldn’t be that big of a deal, he had dealt with more dangerous individuals in the past. It wasn’t until Luhan, another one of the Captain’s most respectable assassins, had walked through the door, did Minseok realize that the Captain had been serious. He was really about to be sent on a two-man mission.

It had taken Minseok and Luhan little to no time to learn and match the other person’s fighting style. It proved an important skill, and Luhan had proved to be an important asset, one that Minseok had initially taken for granted. Both of them weren’t used to working with another person, considering that the Captain’s assassin’s were rarely dispatched in pairs or groups. It was too big of a risk; too much room for error. It wasn’t until their mission had been coming up on it’s five month mark that Luhan and Minseok were finally able to make some significant progress in trying to catch this dealer. To Minseok’s distaste, the Captain had been right. The mission proved to be more challenging than Minseok originally suspected, and had grown grateful for Luhan’s company and companionship. In the few short months that they had been working together, the two of them had seen more gore and had experienced things one should never have to experience, than most people have in their lifetime. They spent a lot of time learning how to patch each other up whenever they ran into roadblocks along the way. 

With all the time that they had spent together, Minseok was able to genuinely call Luhan his one and only friend. For someone who had been alone for the majority of his life, it was a nice change of pace, and it allowed for Minseok to feel things he hadn’t realized he was still capable of feeling in a long time. It was that precious friendship that thawed the icy heart that had been crafted and molded by his times in the ice mines. 

By the end of month five, Minseok and Luhan had secured the position of the arms dealer, who had been hiding out in the shadows of a Venusian city full of wealth and prestige, just a little ways outside the border that separated civilization from the vast open dessert that would have taken months to cross by foot. They had set up a makeshift base on the top floor in one of the grand hotels that connected a variety of casinos and whore houses. Even though they had been in the middle of a respectable, wealthy and lively city, it still attracted crowds of scumbag men who wanted nothing more than to gamble and have their way with the women of the city. 

Luhan had left Minseok a note stating that was going to be working around the area on a side mission, which would come in from time to time from the Captain. It was not uncommon for the Captain to assign his assassins side missions if they were already on their way to a particular area that was already marked on the Captain’s list. As a result of Luhan’s unique and rare ability, he was the favored assassin for most side jobs. However, Luhan started making it a habit of his to leave Minseok in the dark about where he had been running off to in the middle of night, with no word as to where he was going, and thanks to Minseok’s newfound concern for his only friend, they had agreed to leave each other small, brief notes with information that stated what they were doing, where they were going, and when they might be back. It seemed it a bit overkill in the beginning, and it was quite often that one or the other would forget to do so, but after a short period of time they fell into a natural routine that eventually morphed from them leaving the notes out of convenience to leaving notes that could fill dozens of pages purely for the sake of random conversation. It was a language that only the two of them knew how to speak.

In the meantime Minseok had been casually sharpening one of the long daggers that Luhan had gifted him for his birthday, which had not been too long ago, until Luhan had suddenly been launched through the door. He hadn’t been sure what gave their position away, or who had been trailing them long enough to discover their whereabouts, but Minseok was suddenly inspired to find out. Regardless of who it had been, the arms dealer they had been desperately trailing those last few months knew that they were in the city, and  _ he _ was determined to get rid of  _ them _ before  _ they _ could get rid of  _ him _ . 

Generally speaking, Minseok and Luhan had ditched the provided communication gear that had been granted to them at the beginning of their mission. Over time, they both agreed that the equipment was doing them more harm than good. The wireless packs that connected the earpieces and microphones to one another proved to be a tad bit too bulky for them to efficiently crawl through tight spaces without making an abundant of noise. More conveniently, after giving up on his quest in giving Luhan the cold shoulder to spite the Captain’s decision, Minseok had learned that Luhan was a telekinetic. Luhan’s ability proved to be of more use than the equipment that started to sit and collect dust, and if anything, it was a more secure form of communication. Minseok, to this day, still wasn’t entirely sure how the ability worked, but as long as Luhan had been within a five mile radius, he would be able to tap into some part of Minseok’s brain and he’d be able to hear Luhan just as well as if he were standing in front of him, and Luhan would be able to hear him. A  _ lot  _ less room for discovery. 

It made Minseok wonder why Luhan hadn’t warned him that he was on his way back to the room, and made him question whether or not Luhan had been suspicious to the possibility that someone might have been following him. He never got the chance to find out.

Minseok shot out of his seat, dagger in hand and at the ready, leaping over the scattered debris to where Luhan had made contact with the now crumbled bed frame, which was going to cost a pretty penny to repair. “Luhan!” 

Minseok cupped his hand under Luhan’s armpit and pulled him up from the destroyed bed. Luhan quickly dusted himself off as he reached for the throwing knives that were tucked in between the folds of his beige overcoat. Minseok turned to see approximately six built men filling the room at an alarming rate. Two against six. They both knew that they had been victorious against odds that were infinitely worse than this, but with those men blocking their way to the locked arsenal where they stored the greater majority of their weaponry, Minseok hadn’t been sure how much he liked their odds. 

Minseok could hear the faint hum of Luhan’s voice projecting deep within his mind, a voice that only Minseok could hear, “How many weapons do you have on you right now?”

Minseok briefly looked away from the men that had dog piled into the room and down at the half-dull dagger that spread beneath his fingers, “You’re looking at it.”

Luhan’s face had been wiped over with a faint look of disapproval, but knew that it would have to do, at least it was something. He darted left and threw one of his knives, pinning one of the men in the dead center of their neck, “Okay, I’m going to take the three men that are furthest from us. You charge and try to take out the remaining two, if you’re able to get past them quick enough, you should be able to reach the arsenal.”

Minseok knew it was a risky bet. It was messy, and was most likely the best that Luhan could do with the chaotic situation at hand. Minseok barely had enough time to flip the dagger into a proper grip as the tallest of the two men directly in front of him charged for him; Minseok dodged right, allowing the dagger to sink deep into the assassin’s side. With some extra effort, he was able to twist the dagger and yank hard against the thick clothes and skin. Blood went flying, hot and slick against the side of Minseok’s neck and face. Before he was sure that the man had gone down, he ripped the dagger away and plunged it deep into the other man’s chest. It really was a shame that Minseok had to make the deaths so quick and near-painless. Minseok took half a second to check on Luhan to make sure he was faring well enough on his own. He had already taken out one of the assassins, who he had pinned to a wall with a throwing knife straight through the neck. Minseok had never known anyone with better aim than Luhan, and he had a pretty decent track record to prove it. 

Minseok made a mad dash for the weapons arsenal as Luhan continued to take care of the remaining two assassins. It took him several moments to dial the series of numbers of the padlock that sealed the arsenal from prying eyes. All the while he could hear the familiar tune of Luhan’s humming—he always claimed that killing was a lot more bearable with background music—as he ripped and tore through skin; blood scattering against the walls, hisses and moans silencing as Luhan finished off the men. Even though they were able to dispatch the six men quickly and swiftly, Minseok tore through the arsenal and loaded himself with whatever he could to prepare for another onslaught, if it ever came. Minseok and Luhan knew they were stereotypically old-fashioned when it came to their choice in weaponry. They typically collected and sought after a variety of non-automated weaponry: swords, throwing knives, daggers, bows and arrows, throwing stars, and other weaponry of the like. They had a variety of automated weapons, as well, but it had always been within their preference to use close-range fighting tactics rather than distance. Quickness, swiftness, and stealth had always been their greatest assets for as long as they could remember.

He could hear the shallow and harsh breathing that escaped from Luhan just at the other end of the room. Minseok now gripped a bow in between his finger, which replaced Luhan’s gifted dagger that was now sheathed at his side. When Minseok turned to face Luhan, Minseok felt as if he had the wind knocked from him, because when he turned back all he could see was the assassin he pinned in the side just moments ago holding Luhan up against him, throwing knife up against Luhan’s throat. It took Minseok half a second to ready an arrow, pulling the string of the bow back far enough that he knew it would send the arrow flying through the man’s forehead at remarkable speeds. The damage would be detrimental. 

Minseok could feel Luhan tapping into his mind, and could hear Luhan gulping for air, “Minseok, shoot.”

“I can’t. It’s not a clear enough shot.”

“Take the shot, Minseok,” Luhan gritted through an invisible pair of teeth. Calm was the only expression splayed across Luhan’s face as Minseok pulled the string of the bow back further. The assassin pressing the knife into Luhan’s neck just enough for him to draw blood was all Minseok needed to hesitate. He could feel the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes as Minseok met Luhan’s grief-stricken eyes. 

“Shoot, Minseok,” Luhan’s whisper caressed the back of Minseok’s mind. One single tear rolled down Luhan’s cheek.

The tears fell fast as Minseok positioned the arrow toward the center of the man’s forehead; Luhan’s tears draped both sides of his face as he closed his eyes. Minseok could feel the ache that started to settle in his arm, and he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to hold the arrow for much longer. No amount of training would have been able to prepare Minseok for the muscle power that he craved in that moment. 

It was Luhan’s melancholy voice that triggered the arrow, “Promise me—that you’ll find me again.”

Minseok didn’t get a chance to answer as the arrow had sped toward its intended target. It all seemed to happen in slow motion, if it were even possible for half a second to be so slow. A series of thuds plagued his ears. He dropped the bow onto the dark wooden floorboards, and slowly shuffled to where Luhan’s lifeless body had gathered on the floor. The dead assassin a mere few feet away, pinned to the wall by the arrow. 

Minseok couldn’t find the tears that had burned his eyes just moments ago as he gathered Luhan’s still-warm body in his arms. The room had stilled to an eerie degree that made Minseok uncomfortable. He had been surrounded by death for all of his life, and for the first time in his life, it made him sick. 

He knew whatever painful noise that had spilled from his lips that day, all of those years ago, was a noise no human should have been capable of. Minseok could only recount the words that played over and over in his head since that day he left Luhan’s body on a bed of sticks and logs, burning his bodying in the middle of a nearby body of water—he couldn’t remember if it had been a lake or not—until the pieces of wood cracked and groaned. Luhan’s body plunged straight through the water. Only a small spout of steam left to fog Minseok’s memory. 

_ Find me again. Promise me—that you’ll find me again. _

He hadn’t cried once since that day. 

Until Kim Jongdae was standing directly in front of his field of vision, triggering the tears to fall for the first time in years.


	9. CHAPTER 9: TEAM ACE

Junmyeon had finished up with Jongdae’s first healing session earlier than either of them had initially anticipated. Since Junmyeon didn’t have the raw power of a healer, he prefaced that it would take multiple sessions for the stiffness in Jongdae’s muscles to regress back to its normal state. Jongdae had been grateful either way, and was ultimately spared the pain that came with a full-blooded healer’s power. 

Junmyeon placed his hands back into the bowl that he had carried in as Jongdae stood from the chair. The water slipped between Junmyeon’s fingers and into the bowl, the impact of liquid against solid sent the water flying in various directions. Jongdae took a step back to avoid getting splashed, and Junmyeon rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I apologize. If your power’s limitation is the sound of thunder, mine is just being a complete mess.”

Jongdae nodded in understanding. He had never met a power wielder who didn’t have a limitation of some sort. 

“Look,” Junmyeon started as he wiped the excess water from his hands, “You’re more than welcome to roam the 326 at your disposal. We aren’t going to hold you prisoner here...consider this a privilege.”

Jongdae almost couldn’t believe his ears, and the fact that they were coming from an affiliate of ACE made it even less believable, “Thank you.” 

Junmyeon’s response had been a curt nod as he grabbed the bowl and made his way through the door, Jongdae trailed behind him shortly after. It came as a surprise to both men when they cleared the doorway and noticed Kim Minseok leaning up against the wall, but what had been even more surprising was the unusual exasperated look that had been painted across the fine features of his face. 

It took Jongdae a moment to recognize the tears that had quickly shot down Minseok’s face the moment they made eye contact. Jongdae’s eyes slid to where Junmyeon had been pinned to the spot he was standing in. He looked completely dumbfounded at the sight, which answered whether this sort of behavior was atypical for Minseok. Junmyeon took a step closer to Jongdae, Minseok could have cared less since his eyes were locked onto Jongdae, “Why don’t you make your way onto the main deck, I’ll handle this.”

Jongdae hardly turned to make his leave when Minseok’s hand suddenly caught his wrist. 

~

“Lu—” the name had caught on the edge of Minseok’s tongue, and it was the mental image of Luhan’s face that masked itself over that of Kim Jongdae. It took several seconds for Minseok to realize that the only reason Jongdae had been staring at Minseok with some variation of blind astonishment was because he had firmly enclosed his own hand over Jongdae’s wrist. Yet, Minseok couldn’t bring himself to tear his hand from the familiar, yet foreign feeling that came with the contact. 

It had been Junmyeon who interjected on Minseok’s behalf by slowly and gently pulling Jongdae out of his grip, and he hadn’t let go of Minseok’s hand as he turned to dismiss Jongdae from the hallway. Minseok shot Junmyeon a questioning look when Jongdae didn’t leave as soon as his hand had been released, but rather he kept stealing not-so furtive glances at the place where Minseok’s fingers had been. It wasn’t until that lingering confusion had faded from his face that he decided to make his way toward the main deck of the ship.

Junmyeon filled the spot in front of Minseok that Jongdae had vacated, and returned the questioning look Minseok had given him moments ago, “What was that about?” 

Minseok quickly cleared his throat, gathering himself as he pushed himself from the wall. The somewhat familiar feeling of Jongdae’s skin lingered on his fingers. He could have sworn he saw Luhan standing there, it was as if he had been right in front of him, in the flesh; but Minseok knew better than to fall for the illusions that plagued him from time to time. He knew there was nothing, that there was nobody, who could ever bring Luhan back. Minseok had burned his body, had drowned his dead body in the middle of that open body of water. 

Minseok chose to ignore Junmyeon’s question as he turned and made his way to where everyone else had been hibernating. Minseok walked through the archway that opened up onto the main deck, his eyes went directly to Kim Jongdae, who had quickly settled himself in one of the chairs at the conference table, scribbling something onto a piece of paper. Kyungsoo suddenly appeared and leaned against the wall that built the foundation for the arch, both of them observing a wild creature in it’s not-so-natural habitat. Whatever Jongdae had been furiously scrawling across that piece of paper, he realized the vague expression of desperation that morphed his facial features. He had only seen a similar expression on one other person, and it frustrated Minseok that he couldn’t help but compare the two of them. It felt a bit like blasphemy. 

Luhan’s immortal face, every detail, had been etched into even the darkest corners of Minseok’s brain. The sort of places of Minseok’s mind that would never, could never, reach the light of day. 

_ Promise me—that you’ll find me again.  _

It was a promise that Minseok internalized each and every day for the last eight years. He wasn’t sure what it was about Kim Jongdae that reminded Minseok of every secure feeling that he felt with Luhan, but whatever the reason was, it made him angrier and angrier as the minutes continued to pass. He shook the words that played in his mind like a broken record from the forefront of his brain and looked to Kyungsoo, “What is he doing?”

Kyungsoo gave Minseok the most furtive of side glances as he folded his arms over his chest, “He didn’t say, he just asked me if I had materials to write with, and went into a frenzy.”

Minseok watched the way that Jongdae’s hand naturally glided across the off-white piece of paper. Considering that ACE had the supercomputer at their disposal, they rarely took their time to sit down and just write things out. It had been years since Minseok actually wrote something down, he could only imagine how out of practice he was. He could vividly picture the look of utter disapproval that would have sprawled across Luhan’s face for giving it up, but Minseok wasn’t the same person he had been eight years prior. Minseok left that younger version of himself, all of his habits, in the past—had drowned him and smothered him in the very waters that had been the last to embrace Luhan.

Minseok continued to examine the looks on Jongdae’s face that would change and vary between brief expressions of happiness, some of anger, of frustration, sadness. It was nearly jaw dropping how many emotions a person could experience in such a short span of time. However, Minseok always let that blank expression rest on his face daily. It had become his default of sorts, and was the only thing that was keeping the rest of his team members at bay. Ever since his incident with Luhan, Minseok couldn’t bring himself to get even remotely friendly with another person. The grief and loss that had been associated with his job wasn’t worth the physical and emotional pain that lingered underneath his skin, in the depths of his broken and tattered soul. 

He found his feet naturally moving in the direction of that round table, and sat directly next to a sleeping Sehun. It surprised Minseok sometimes that Sehun was capable of sleeping in places that were so unfitting for sleep, but he assumed it came with the natural territory of being a pilot. He considered the concussion that drained the energy from Sehun’s body, and glanced to where Junmyeon was intensely conversing with Chanyeol and Kyungsoo; they were most likely going over whatever Junmyeon and Jongdae had discussed once Minseok and Kyungsoo left that interrogation room, and had been the only two left. Minseok tore his eyes away, but when he looked back to Jongdae, he noticed that the young man had already been staring at him.

They sat like that for a long moment. Jongdae had still been furiously writing on that piece of paper without breaking his gaze. 

“What—” Minseok cleared his throat, “what are you even writing?”

~

Kim Jongdae hadn’t expected Minseok to say anything. He assumed that he was nothing more than a man of few words...cold, calculated...and Jongdae still wasn’t sure how to analyze Minseok’s actions from when they were crowded in that hallway. 

“If you’re worried that I might be detailing the ins and outs of your space craft, you can relax,” Jongdae set the pen down after signing his initials in the way he always had, “I’m writing a note to someone.”

Minseok froze in his seat at his words, and Jongdae wasn’t sure what to make of that either. “Why are you writing a note if you have no means of sending it?”

Jongdae shook his head, “It’s not like that.”

Minseok arched an eyebrow in silent question, and Jongdae almost couldn’t believe that he had encountered his inquiring mind. One that he refused to feed. 

Jongdae solicited no response, as he began folding the note neatly into halves, bending and creasing the paper multiple times over until it transformed into a compact square that looked as if it was mere moments from exploding. He hardly cared about what sort of questions were floating amongst the mind of the man who sat across from him, and it wasn’t until Minseok looked across the room at the remaining members of his team that Jongdae was able to get a good look at him.

If Jongdae knew nothing about Minseok, the first thing he would have assumed was that he was severely overworked and overtired; but now that he had finally seen Minseok in action, he wasn’t sure if he truly was or if there was something more raging beneath that thick skin of his. He found it difficult to believe that Minseok, or anyone in general, only had a handful of facial expressions. It was as if he had trained his face—his whole body—to hide the human being that laid beneath the many layers that had been formed underneath. In some odd way, he was reminded of Baekhyun, but less outspoken and more arrogant. Baekhyun was Minseok’s opposite, he had an opinion for everything. Based on the very few interactions Jongdae had with Minseok, he felt as though Minseok and Baekhyun would clash in the same way that Jongdae had initially clashed with Baekhyun. He knew that they would never meet anyway, so it would save Jongdae one spectacular headache. Jongdae knew that Baekhyun completely loathed Kim Minseok, even though he had never been able to put Minseok’s name to his face, and Baekhyun never really went out of his way to explain why his hatred towards this man was so strong.

Jongdae himself had never been a talkative or opinionated man, he could be loud when necessary, but it was never in the way that really mattered. He lacked the imperative people skills that one needed to contribute to important conversations such as strategy meetings, but he could never doubt the technical skill that had been embedded into his brain. He remembered all of the times that he would sneak out in the pitch darkness of the night to sit behind the artificial light of computer screens that had become a permanent layer of Jongdae’s existence. He had only been a teenager when a handful of corporate companies from distant planets had noticed the vast knowledge that was ingrained there in Jongdae’s mind, and it was the first time he had ever been hired for something in his short life. Despite the fact that it was all done under the table, on the basis of a variety of illegal loopholes. It was also the first time Jongdae had been used and manipulated by someone other than his own family. It wasn’t the last either.

Jongdae noticed as the tallest of the five team members came within his peripheral vision, sitting down in the chair directly to his left. The harsh noise from the chair being dragged across the hard metal floor stirred the sleeping member across the table. 

“Since we are all going to be getting cozy with one another for now,” the taller one spoke his tone was flat, almost bored, “I would rather not call you that-Rogue-guy.”

Jongdae whipped his head in his general direction as the shorter man from the interrogation room came up directly behind the taller, and casually placing a hand on the back of his chair. The taller leaned forward a bit, “My name is Chanyeol. Park Chanyeol.”

Jongdae nodded in way of acknowledgment, the name playing over and over in the back of his mind as a way of remembering. “Kim Jongdae, but—I have a feeling you all know who I am already.”

Junmyeon settled in chair that sat adjacent to Minseok’s and hummed briefly in agreeance.

The shorter who had been standing behind Chanyeol took the seat directly to Jongdae’s right and cleared his throat, “Doh Kyungsoo.”

Nothing more, nothing less than his name. He avoided eye contact while shoving his hands into the deep pockets of his distressed uniform. It took Jongdae this long to realize that they were uniformed, a marker of what made ACE distinct from other galactic subunits. Baekhyun firmly believed that the uniforms were nothing more than a symbol of power: an illusion, a political front. Jongdae would have thought they would have at least ditched the uniforms as soon as they were out of the public eye, and yet here they were, partially dressed to a tee. Each of them carried a staple that differentiated one from the other, distinguished one rank from other. Jongdae couldn’t help but wonder why they always wore the same thing. 

“Does your team not wear a uniform?” Jongdae had been pulled from his thoughts of that final nameless member who had been pulled from his half-sleep.

As a team, Rogue in general didn’t necessarily care about rank, and found uniforms to be an implicit and superficial symbol that defined rank. They worked under a selfish, tyrannical overlord, but Yixing took on the position of Rogue’s leader, and only because he was the most responsible and level headed of the four. Baekhyun, Jongdae, and Jongin had unanimously come to the unspoken decision, and they had been following him ever since. It had always been Yixing who was cleaning up after the messes that typically trailed Baekhyun and Jongdae, especially during that time before their friendship blossomed. 

Jongdae just shook his head in response to the man’s question, and played with the note that he had shoved into his pocket not too long before.

The fatigued man rubbed the sides of his temples and shielded his eyes from the light that hung overhead, “I’m Sehun, by the way.”

Considering that he was practically being held captive, Jongdae felt that the typical nice-to-meet-you was a rather improper response to their introductions. He just nodded as Junmyeon stood and walked to the sink that sat directly behind them. He could hear the familiar crashing of water against the bowl that Junmyeon had used during their session together. 

“Sehun, can you move to the chair that I was sitting in so that I can do your next session?” Junmyeon called from the sink as he turned off the water faucet. Sehun didn’t argue, didn’t groan or gripe, as he slowly stood from one chair and moved to another. Junmyeon placed the bowl on the edge of the table as Sehun settled himself into the chair. Much like during his session with Jongdae, Junmyeon reached to the dial on the hanging lamp and turned it down to make Sehun more comfortable. 

“Thank you,” Sehun whispered, his eyes widening a bit more than before. Junmyeon shot him a closed-lip smile in response as the water collected around his hands again.

Jongdae could feel Minseok’s calculated stare that was pinned to the side of Jongdae’s face, and he wouldn’t let Minseok have the satisfaction of knowing that he was bothered by it. It felt as if they were walking the same tightrope together, and if Jongdae made one wrong move Minseok wouldn’t hesitate to push him off, leaving him to free fall to whatever unknown fate would greet him. It wasn’t just this tension between the two of them that Jongdae had been balancing on that very same tightrope. Somewhere deep within Jongdae, he could feel the imbalance that was occurring between his mind and his heart—in his heart, it was the longing he felt for Baekhyun’s soothing voice that kept Jongdae’s inner demons at bay; for Jongin’s snarky sarcasm that reignited Jongdae’s heart whenever his inner fire needed the fuel; for Yixing’s reassuring words that sparked the extra confidence he needed whenever it was wavering. He wanted to run to them. Yet, he knew in order to survive, in order to protect the people he loved most, he would stay, even if it meant falling off of that trembling tightrope. 

Rogue was his balancing stick. They anchored his feet to the slim spiral-braided rope he treaded on. Regardless of the swaying, he remained steady. But what if the very stick that kept him balanced was also the reason for his free fall? They were his compass, guiding him across that tightrope, pointing him North towards home. He knew if he fell, it would be physically impossible for them to be at the bottom to catch him, no safety net in sight; even if he grasped that rope for dear life, how long would it take for at least one of them to brave the daunting height in order to walk across and save him? Jongdae wasn’t sure if he would even have the strength to hold on long enough, and even if they had reached him, he knew well enough that one of them would have to fall anyways. It might as well have been him.

To love meant to sacrifice.

And Jongdae would sacrifice over and over again to protect those he loved, even if it meant embracing the fall. 


	10. CHAPTER 10: TEAM ACE

Minseok stared up at the ceiling of the 326, eyes examining every little detail on the surface. The clock built into the bunked bed displayed that it was deep into the night cycle, yet sleep was the last thing on his mind. He felt rattled, rattled by Jongdae, by the fact that after years of suppressing memories as best as he could, some  _ Rogue _ comes along with a shovel, unearthing things that should remain buried for good. 

He huffed, exasperated, and sat up in his bunk. It was mostly silent around him, Chanyeol’s soft snores resounding a couple bunks away along with Junmyeon’s mumbles next to him. Sehun was always a silent sleeper. Kyungsoo was replacing Sehun’s watch over the autopilot, to avoid the possibility of it veering off course. In an hour or so, Junmyeon would switch off with him. It was tough being one man short but Sehun was going to be fine, and that was all that really mattered. 

Minseok figured he might as well walk around a bit since sleep wasn’t exactly forthcoming. He started down the ladder but stopped short on the bottom rung. Jongdae was awake too, sitting up, hugging his knees close to his chest. The sound of Minseok stepping down caused him to lift his head from where it was buried between his arms. Even though it had been dark, Minseok could tell that Jongdae’s eyes were red, lashes still wet with tears that he was quick to wipe away with the back of his hand. For some reason, the scene caused an ache to manifest itself behind Minseok’s ribs. Minseok took to ignoring it until he noticed that Jongdae was still clad in the clothes he had been wearing when the explosion occurred. It was tattered and riddled with dust and dirt from all of the debris.

“Do you want to shower?” Minseok hadn’t exactly been polite about it, but it also wasn’t like him to be as generous as he was being.

Jongdae looked taken aback. He knew Junmyeon had said that he wasn’t their prisoner but the news still hadn’t sunk in yet. He had expected to be thrown in a tiny room, isolated, possibly tortured. It was everything that Alpha hadn’t prepared the Rogue team for. He had heard of the ludicrous, while still daunting, torture tactics that Alpha had once described to Rogue during their training. If it had been Alpha’s way of controlling Rogue for all of these years, then Jongdae knew that the fear of capture by ACE that had been instilled in them was keeping them from learning more about the mysterious organization. As Jongdae’s eyes met Minseok’s, he considered just how little he truly knew about ACE, and more importantly, Alpha’s true intentions.  

So, Jongdae nodded. The sudden urge to wash away all of the grime that had collected on his body, as well as his mind, was suddenly overwhelming. Minseok gestured for him to follow, and so he did.

~

Jongdae felt reborn, body and hair free of all the dust and grime. The aches still lingered in muscles he didn’t even realize that he had, in his bones, body bruised black and blue, protesting at any careless movement. The mirror in the compact bathroom had been small to say the least. Yet, it didn’t stop Jongdae from turning to view the near resemblance of a watercolor painting that had been sprawled across the entirety of his back. The pale color of his flesh temporarily scarred with purple-black veins that resembled lightning cracking and breaking open the night sky. It took everything in Jongdae’s mind and body to keep from running his hands across the horrific plains of his back. The constant headache was ever-present but soothed by Junmyeon every few hours or so. 

It was too late. Or was it early? Regardless, Kyungsoo now slept where Junmyeon had been sleeping prior to Minseok’s offer of the shower; Chanyeol and Sehun continued to sleep, and it looked as if they were so deep in their sleep cycle that it would take more than one person to wake them. Despite his relaxing shower, Jongdae still buzzed with an anxiety that did not help with the resurfacing ache that was pulsing in the back of his head, and knew that there was no point in going back to bed. Instead, he made his way to where Junmyeon stood watch over the autopilot controls, nose deep in what looked like important files. Minseok was seated to his left, fingers curled around a mug of what looked to be coffee.

“Mor—” Jongdae was about to greet them but got cut off by the intrusive ringing of the supercomputer.

**Incoming call from ID: 100010, Captain**

**> Accept**

**> Decline**

Junmyeon jumped from his seat and sprawled into action, grabbing Jongdae by the wrist and rushing him to the nearest storage closet, “Stay here! Whatever you do, don’t make  _ any  _ noise!”

The implicit promise of a severe punishment if he did was painted across Junmyeon’s face, and with no hesitation at all, Jongdae nodded. Then, Junmyeon shut the door and Jongdae was plunged into darkness. A question lingering in the back of his mind: why would ACE care if their Captain found out he was here?

~

Minseok accepted the call once Junmyeon gave him the signal that they were in the clear. Immediately, the image of the Captain, from the shoulders up, materialized on their large screen.

“Minseok,” He greeted almost robotically.

“Captain,” Minseok answered back, offering a salute as a sign of respect. Junmyeon followed suit. 

“I have an urgent mission for you. It must be attended to immediately,” the Captain was nothing but stern.

Minseok nodded in understanding, “What is it?”

“Alpha,” a murderous glint formed in the Captain’s eye, and it vanished as quickly as it came, his face settling back into an emotionless mask, “My men have reported that he’s planning a high-scale hostage situation on Pluto. The night of the Union Festival.”

Junmyeon, behind Minseok, sucked in a breath. The Union Festival was tomorrow night, and they were already heading in the wrong direction. It would take a full day’s worth of flying, with no stops, at speeds that were fairly illegal for them to reach that festival in time. Minseok knew that Sehun still needed more than a day’s rest in order to make that happen.

The Captain went on, “I am sending all the details as soon as we are done here. I expect you to get the job done...swiftly and cleanly. Alpha’s Rogue team can’t so much as touch any of the officials listed in that document that I am sending you. Have I made myself clear?”

“Of course, sir,” Minseok assured, voice steady.

“Don’t fail me again.”

Before Minseok could get in another word, the Captain ended the call, the screen reverting to its default state. 

“Shit…” Junmyeon muttered under his breath, “Pluto is too far out, how the hell are we supposed to get there in time? Even if  _ we _ flew the 326 at her fastest speed, you and I aren’t skilled enough pilots to control the craft. Hell, even Sehun is just  _ barely _ qualified.”

Despite their level of importance within the organization, Minseok knew that they weren’t above the law, and there was always the chance that they could be caught by patrolling space crafts of other nearby planets. It had been a long time since the Captain promised to renew their civic immunity to the galactic laws and articles, and Minseok wasn’t brave enough to push their luck in asking him now, considering everything that happened at Callisto. 

~

Kim Jongdae sat in the silence and pitch darkness that expanded around him in the midst of the small broom cupboard that he had been shoved into. It had been a long time since Jongdae had found himself in a situation like this, and he hadn’t been entirely sure if what he felt was embarrassment or annoyance. Jongdae pressed his ear up against the ice cold door in an attempt to see if he could hear anything that was being said beyond that door. Whatever kind of man the Captain was, Jongdae knew that it was enough for someone like Junmyeon to panic over the presence of a stranger. No, not just any stranger. A Rogue.

Jongdae literally couldn’t help but to be left alone with his thoughts. He couldn’t help but wonder what his team members were doing, how they were doing. Were they hurt? Were they sleeping properly? It made Jongdae wonder whether or not they knew what genuinely had happened to him, and he knew better than to think that his friends thought him dead. Jongdae knew that Baekhyun would know that. 

Baekhyun. Jongdae almost hated how much his mind had been wandering to Baekhyun within the last day, and despite knowing that it wasn’t healthy for him, he let it happen anyways. Jongdae and Baekhyun had both voiced in the past about how they both became overly restless whenever they were away from the other. There was enough physical discomfort and anxiety for it to be alarming. Jongdae would never forget the day he sat down and spilled all of his frustration to Yixing, and not because he was sure that Yixing would have an answer, but because Yixing knew the Rogue members better than they knew themselves. Yixing claimed that being excessively observant came with the territory. As a leader, it was part of his job to call out his team on their shit if things looked like they were going to spiral downward. It was a quality that Jongdae had always admired. But he knew that no one could ever persevere in the same way that Yixing could—through sunshine and rain, and on the brink between life and dead...Yixing would never let anyone know how much he was hurting. However, Jongdae wagered that some of that behavior stemmed from the concern that Yixing regularly voiced about being the oldest amongst the Rogue members. Yixing believed that it was his job, and probably believed that it was his job alone, to take care of the only brotherly figures he had in his life. It made Jongdae think about how Yixing was always coddling Jongin, and how Jongin had attached himself to Yixing’s hip. If Jongdae had Baekhyun, then Jongin had Yixing. It wasn’t to say that each of them weren’t there for one other, but there was a sort of unspoken bond between the two pairings that no one could easily put to words.  

Jongdae knew that he would be able to rest easier at night if Rogue had known about his situation. He would actually be able to sleep if at least one of them knew that he was alive.

Jongdae forced his mind to wander away from his makeshift family to that supercomputer. The raw horsepower that flowed through its circuit boards, and Jongdae nearly considered the challenge it would have posed for him to work on such a monstrously beautiful computer. It took a moment for the sudden idea that dwelled within Jongdae’s mind to matast to the size that it did. The sudden flash of the caller identification code reeling in his mind’s eye amidst the pitch black darkness. He considered the consequences that might arise from the rash and yet tempting idea that would cost ACE’s growing trust in Jongdae, and could compromise the position of his dear friends, wherever they might be now. But he couldn’t handle the lingering discomfort that raged and ached in his stomach, he couldn’t let another day pass without them knowing. 

Time felt as if it were passing at a snail’s pace. It had most likely been about less than ten minutes since Junmyeon locked Jongdae in, but it felt like an eternity, and it wasn’t until Jongdae’s face hit hard against the metal floor when he realized he had been too lost in thought. Jongdae pushed himself up from the floor and hesitantly looked from the black combat boots that had been laced to Minseok’s feet to the stone-cold look that had settled among Minseok’s features once more. It was as if the hospitable, kinder Minseok from earlier had been a mere stranger.

“If you’re done, then I am going to give you a chance to prove your usefulness,” Minseok shoved his hands into the deep folds of his pockets and quickly walked back toward the indent in the wall where the supercomputer stood. The same computer where that mysterious call took places moments ago. And it would be the same computer that Jongdae would be putting everything on the line for—just long enough for him to get his message out. It was a lot of risk, but the possible outcome outweighed any and all risk in Jongdae’s mind. 

Jongdae quickly dusted himself off and closed the door to the storage closet he had been residing in, and made his way to where Minseok and Junmyeon were quietly conversing with one another. 

As Jongdae rounded the corner, Junmyeon cleared his throat and folded his arms over his chest, “I know that what we are about to ask of you might put you into an uncomfortable position, but because you are here, and your skillset is a valuable one, we need to ask this of you.”

Jongdae felt the confusion creep across his brows at Junmyeon’s vague words. He didn’t know what to do with his hands because of the pent up anxiety that caused his fingers to tremble. Despite his hesitation, he found the question tumbling from his mouth regardless. He would do whatever it took for him to gain their trust, so that he could see his plan through.

“What is it?”

Minseok looked between Jongdae and Junmyeon before taking a seat directly next to the super computer, “We need you to...hack into  _ our _ boss’s computer.”

Jongdae just looked at Minseok as if he had just handed him the keys to his death. He could see his plan falling to pieces as the words fell from Minseok’s mouth. 

“You—you want me to hack your boss?”

Junmyeon looked like he was going to hurl, “Not just that...”

Jongdae raised an eyebrow in question as Junmyeon teetered around the issue.

“You see,” Junmyeon let out an uncomfortable chuckle as he rubbed the back of his neck, “We also need you to—”

Minseok was pinching the bridge of his nose as the words that Junmyeon couldn’t say were finally out in the open, “We need you to hack into  _ your _ boss’s computer too.”

Perhaps this was a fate much, much worse than death. Jongdae wasn’t entirely sure what could possibly worse than death, but he was sure that he was bound to find out soon. Jongdae knew that if Alpha discovered that his personal computer had been hacked, he would know it was because of Jongdae’s doing. The reason Alpha had even sought out Jongdae in the first place was for his swift and near spotless record, but at a cost. Even Jongdae’s hacking ability had limitations. Jongdae had spent months, years, crafting his own hacking signature, and it was this very signature that had drawn Alpha’s attention. The unzipping and zipping of computer codes, taking them apart and putting them back together, was nearly spotless because of Jongdae’s personal code, one that Alpha knew like the back of his hand. He’d be dead ten times over if he was discovered, but he was more afraid of what would happen to the rest of his team.

He knew that Minseok and Junmyeon didn’t trust him enough to give him the full details as to why they needed access to both of the computers, but whatever the reason was, Jongdae planned on finding out...and he wouldn’t need them to come right out and say it.

Jongdae cleared his throat and tugged on the plaid flannel that he had been wearing around his waist, “How much time can you give me?”

The two higher ups exchanged a quick and worried glance that made Jongdae’s stomach ache. 

“One hour.”

All Jongdae could think was that they were all screwed.


	11. CHAPTER 11: TEAM ROGUE

It had been a couple of days since shit had hit the fan. 

Jongin informed Baekhyun that they had to stun him multiple times to keep him asleep, all the while he and Yixing were successfully able to take off with their usual ship without Alpha’s noticing...or permission. However, Jongin also claimed that their success was temporary, as Alpha had intended on keeping his promise, considering that they were now being hunted by a handful of his henchmen. 

“Give me something to do,” the words were out of Baekhyun’s mouth before Jongin had the chance to continue with the on-going list of bad news. “Both of you know I can keep this ship invisible, I’ve had enough rest to make sure that it stays that way.”

Jongin turned to look over his shoulder at Yixing, who had set the ship to cruise on autopilot for the time being. Yixing sighed through his nostrils as he shoved his hands through the openings of his pockets. 

Baekhyun found himself struggling against the rising vivid image, that horrid bile-raising sound, of Jongdae cracking that table clean in half. He needed something to do before he got sick with worry. 

“I—Xing—”

Yixing took several steps closer to where Baekhyun was now struggling to stand, and threw both of his arms around the younger. Baekhyun couldn’t keep the floodgates from opening in the pent up dam of his heart. He quickly sank to his knees, and Yixing hadn’t let go for a single moment as Baekhyun cried some of the most heart wrenching and horrific cries. All of the anger that once dominated that heart of his had been ripped free from it’s cage and transformed by Jongdae. There were things that only Jongdae knew, things that only Jongdae had seen, about Baekhyun. If it hadn’t been for Jongdae’s bravery on that day years ago, neither of them would be alive to experience all of the great things that he had spent the last few days cherishing in the depths of his dreams. It was for Rogue only that Baekhyun would crawl into the depths of the great unknown, and triumph whatever threats that stood in the way of him and them. 

Baekhyun knew this is where he and Jongdae were similar. Their selflessness was the only good quality that the two of them happened to share; they would do whatever they needed to in order to protect the people they care about. They were polar opposites in every other way that did and didn’t matter. Even before the two of them had mutually began their friendship, they were always saving each other from this and that, because that’s what team members did for one another; and Baekhyun knew Rogue wouldn’t—couldn’t—be Rogue if any of them weren’t present.

“Anything, Yixing,” Baekhyun’s voice was hoarse as the words hiccupped out of his mouth, “I need you to give me something to do.”

The moment Yixing went to open his mouth, Baekhyun could hear the familiar heart-stilling dial tone of the computer from several feet away. 

**Incoming call from ID: A-100120, Alpha**

**> Accept**

**> Decline**

It had been the moment each of them had dreaded. Alpha didn’t take to stealing, or deception in general, well; especially, if the items that were stolen were things that belonged to him, and it tipped the scale of things when the fact of the matter was that it had been  _ his _ Rogue team who had stolen from him. Besides the sound of that incessant ringing, the cruiser was quiet enough that Baekhyun could hear that sound of Yixing swallowing. Baekhyun stood from his place on the cold floor, the three remaining Rogue members moving as one towards the daunting situation ahead of them. 

Jongin tousled Baekhyun’s hair briefly, and it had only resurfaced the guilt that lingered deep within himself about not being there for Jongin in the way that mattered. Jongin had always been taking care of Baekhyun, and he couldn’t remember a time where things were the opposite. The three of them turned to the computer, and with slight hesitation, Yixing had accepted the call. Alpha’s appearance on the screen made Baekhyun’s skin crawl; he could hear the sound of his voice, the words that he had spoken at the Callisto station, ringing through his head. 

_ You’re dead. _ Baekhyun couldn’t help but gulp as Alpha slouched in his usual seat from beyond the screen.

“The three of you really thought that you could steal one of my ships,” Alpha’s voice was like thick ice, and Baekhyun felt as if his toes were freezing over, even though it was mildly warm inside the cruiser, every syllable spoken dropping the temperature another few degrees, “and you thought you could get away with it, without me knowing. Didn’t you?”

Yixing looked as if he was resisting the urge to put his hands in his pockets, or just fiddling with his hands in general. He needed to maintain a solid steady front for himself and the other two, “Sir, I can explain, we—”

“I don’t have the time to listen to whatever story or excuse you might have come up with,” Alpha pinched the bridge of his nose in what might have been annoyance or frustration, “and I’m willing to  _ overlook _ this...incident, if you will, pardoning each of you for all and any crimes, as long as you agree to do as I say.”

Baekhyun could feel a sense of dread forming in the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t everyday that Alpha handed out get-away-free cards like they were something he could withdraw from a bank. Whatever he needed Rogue to do, it must have been dangerous enough that they could get themselves killed in the process, that way he wouldn’t have to do the dirty work himself. Yet, Baekhyun knew if they didn’t take the assignment, they would spend the rest of their miserable lives being hunted across this vast and mighty universe by Alpha’s lackies until they were brought to Alpha’s feet as trophies. 

“I am very well aware that your team has lost some weight,” Alpha sucked on his teeth and leaned back in his chair, “and I’d like to reassure you that your missing team member is alive, and doing what he does best for our common enemy.”

The words couldn’t, and weren’t, sinking in fast enough for Baekhyun. He was alive. Jongdae was alive, but there was a strange conflict brewing beneath his skin. He knew that Jongdae wouldn’t do any sort of work for those people, even if it had cost him his life; it’s what they had been trained for, the resistance that Alpha had instilled in them. Jongdae was stronger than anything that ACE could throw their way. Baekhyun was sure of that.

“It may be a bit hard to believe, but I have my own evidence to prove that he is doing exactly as I am telling you. So, here is what I need the three of you to do…”

Baekhyun could feel his heart—no, his soul—sinking to his feet. He knew that whatever Alpha was about to ask of them meant that he would have to sacrifice. Team Rogue sacrificed every single day, ever since they were contracted. Family, lifelong friendships...the chance at living a normal life. They risked all of those things to be the people they were in that moment, to be the refugees that stood in front of their oppressor. 

“I have seen the things that the ACE organization has done to people,” Alpha sighed. “I know their tactics of torture, the very same tactics that I have exposed each of you to, those harsh punishments, in order to prepare you for the worst. Kim Jongdae was overly prepared for whatever they could have been doing to him, and yet, he caved.”

Baekhyun didn’t want to believe what he was hearing. He could feel the skin around his knuckles threatening to burst open because of how tightly his fist had been bound. He knew that Jongdae was probably doing whatever he could to survive—to get back to them. Jongdae was strong, the strongest person he had ever met. If he was aiding ACE in anyway, it would be because he had no other choice.

“What are you trying to say?” It was Jongin who spoke before the two elder members, and it sent shockwaves throughout the room. 

“I am willing to grant each of you the one thing you have desired most within this last year,” a brief smirk had crept up Alpha’s face, “your freedom...and I will grant the pardon, as well, as a bonus. If and only if…”

The suspense threatened Baekhyun’s knees to buckle once more. He couldn’t help but lean back against the table. His heart had been pounding so fiercely in his chest that he could hear its beating ringing through his ears. The tension in the room was so thick, it could probably cut like a knife through solid ice. 

“I want Kim Jongdae…” Alpha intertwined his fingers, slowly twiddling his thumbs as he made eye contact with the webcam. His stare was one of the most piercing that Baekhyun had ever encountered in his short life, but he learned to block of the fear that the pinning stare evoked. However, in this moment, he would put all of his money on the fact that he was the most afraid that he had ever been in his life.

“...dead.”

The world under Baekhyun’s feet seemed to fall away and disappear at an alarming rate, darkness filling his surroundings until he too was one with it.

~

It felt like only a moment had passed when Baekhyun came too; the familiar bars that supported and separated his mattress from Jongin’s stretched across his blurry vision. Baekhyun had a habit of falling asleep in the wrong bunk, and for the most part the Rogue members slept wherever they wanted. While they had staked their claims on particular beds, the system didn’t stick for long. Most days, they returned to the ship too exhausted to care; so, they would plop down on whatever was closest. Yixing generally fell asleep at a chair, whether it were the pilot’s seat or one of the chairs that circled their poor excuse for a workspace desk. The damn thing was close to falling over. After a year of occupying the craft, an incident occurred where Jongin had miscalculated where to land prior to teleporting back to the ship. As a result, he landed on the edge of the table, the leg of the table cracking clean in half in the process. For years now, that particular corner of the table had been supported by a variety of books the four of them had collected, most of them being manuals and guides for the aircraft. Baekhyun commended each of them daily on their resourcefulness. 

Baekhyun and Jongin generally took turns on who got the top or bottom bunk; for the most part, it was a matter of first-come, first-serve, but it also depended on how they were feeling. If either one of them fell ill, that person would take the bottom bunk. It was rare whenever the both of them were sick simultaneously, but if that were the case, they would just huddle together and share the too-small mattress. Jongdae...Baekhyun wasn’t even sure if Jongdae ever slept. Any moment that Baekhyun had been awake, Jongdae looked as if he had been up an hour prior to him, already up and working. For the last year or so, Jongdae had been benched from nearly all of the field work that Alpha had assigned. It made Baekhyun wonder if Jongdae felt he needed to prove himself in this way: by waking up early, or even staying awake until ungodly hours of the morning, and getting straight to work on that outdated computer of theirs. Baekhyun knew that the technology that had been readily available to them proved to be frustrating for Jongdae, and it added to the very long list of things that Jongdae believed limited himself and his skillset. There would be times where he would have been so close to cracking whatever code he had spent a whole day attempting to crack, until the computer’s power would go out and he would lose all of the work that he had been stressing over. Whenever something like that happened, it killed Baekhyun to watch Jongdae take the resentment out on himself or throw things from one end of the room to the other. All of the pent-up, frustrated anger releasing for the first time for who knows how long. Jongdae had always been one of those people who would allow that invisible cup that lay deep within his mind to fill and fill and fill until it would finally spill over uncontrollably. And whenever those days would manifest, it was as if all of Earth’s oceans and seas were gushing from that tiny cup of Jongdae’s mind. It was days like those where Baekhyun wished he could just shove a lid on top of that glass and take away all of Jongdae’s internal struggles, but it was those same days that Jongdae pushed the people he cared about most far, far away. It would take several days, sometimes weeks, for Jongdae to assimilate back into his normal frame of mind. 

Prior to the establishment of Baekhyun and Jongdae’s friendship, this sort of behavior used to annoy Baekhyun to no end. He couldn’t understand why Jongdae couldn’t have just kept himself together, why he couldn’t have vented the frustration in some other rational way. It wasn’t until after that life changing mission that Baekhyun finally understood how Jongdae had actually been feeling. Baekhyun sat down for a whole entire day, plus some extra hours of the following day, with Jongdae as he attempted to hack into a private server that Alpha had requested. It was a top-priority assignment and needed to be done as soon as humanly possible. Jongdae had been getting closer and closer to accessing the server, when the computer suddenly decided it had been overworked, and the screen had been swallowed by darkness. It was the second angriest that Baekhyun had ever felt in his life and he was sure that his anger couldn’t even amount to a  _ quarter  _ of Jongdae’s.

He blinked away the day dream until his eyes adjusted to the soft light around him, and when he inhaled a deep breath, Jongin was there. Baekhyun couldn’t help but jump, nearly hitting his head on the roof of the bunk beds. He would probably have been a rich man for the infinite times that Jongin managed to scare Baekhyun whenever he suddenly appeared after teleporting. Jongin sat on the edge of the mattressing, silently giving Baekhyun a moment to calm the adrenaline that pumped through his veins. 

“What happened?” Baekhyun tossed the blanket away and leaned against the frame of the bed. 

Jongin cleared his throat and mimicked Baekhyun’s position at the other end of the bed, “You passed out.”

Baekhyun sighed, lightly hitting the back of his head on one of the support beams of the frame, “What did Alpha say?”

“He wasn’t exactly surprised by your reaction, he knows that you and Jongdae are close,” Jongin shifted a bit, pulling the blanket over his feet, “He wants us to dispose of Jongdae as soon as possible.”

Baekhyun could feel the bile rising in his throat once again. There was a line between work and a personal short-lived vendetta, and Alpha was crossing it. He couldn’t tell who Alpha was intending to punish, Jongdae or Rogue. Perhaps, both. If what Alpha had said about Jongdae hacking for ACE was true, it must have meant that ACE was forcing Jongdae’s hand by hacking Alpha’s private computer for them. Whatever the reason was, Baekhyun could only speculate, and he wasn’t trying to think about the things they had done or said to threaten his friend. 

“You—” Baekhyun was pushing himself as far against the bed frame, as far as he could get from Jongin as he could, “You’re not telling me that you guys actually accepted that  _ lunatic’s _ offer, did you?”

Jongin was silent for a second too long. Baekhyun tore himself from the bed, stumbling backwards, “Baekhyun, calm down and listen to me for a second—”

The tears that slid down Baekhyun’s face were hot, and he wasn’t sure if the crashing sound that he had heard was the sound of the table falling over as he ran into it, or if it was the sound of his shattering heart. Before Baekhyun could even get a word out, Yixing was forcing him down into the wooden chair and tying a strip of cloth around his mouth to prevent Baekhyun from speaking. 

“Baekhyun,” Yixing’s voice was lethal, seething and oozing with anger and sadness, and something else that Baekhyun couldn’t put his finger on. He only ever spoke like that when it was time for them to be serious. There was a sense of dread and desperation lingering in the look on Yixing’s face, and because of that Baekhyun pushed the anger and betrayal that ached under his ribcage to the back of his mind. “Listen to me, we are going to get Jongdae back...I don’t care what it takes...but you are going to do everything that I say, whether you like it or not.”

Baekhyun had never seen Yixing  _ this _ serious before; he wasn’t sure if it was because someone’s life was on the line, or if it was for some other unknown reason. He was scared of even moving a single muscle. 

“We had to accept the assignment,” Yixing confessed. Baekhyun felt every single one of his muscles go limp. “We need to get Alpha’s pardon if we are going to leave the cause, and he’s willing to grant us that freedom, as long as we do the job. But—”

Yixing crouched down to a little bit lower than Baekhyun’s level, “But...we need to make him think that we are actually carrying the assignment out.”

Baekhyun furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“I told you that we would save Jongdae, and that’s what we are going to do...together,” Baekhyun felt as though he could actually breathe again, and he wasn’t sure why he had doubted his team members in the first place. “We are going to do it  _ my _ way, and my way only, do you understand me, Baekhyun?”

Even though Baekhyun had been completely oblivious as to what Yixing’s plan was, he found himself nodded regardless. As long as they were going to be making an effort to rescuing Jongdae, Baekhyun was ready to listen to anything Yixing said.


	12. CHAPTER 12: TEAMS ROGUE & ACE

####  TEAM ROGUE

It had been nearly six hours since Rogue had hauled their ship into overdrive, as they reevaluated the course of their ship, and headed backwards in the direction of Pluto. After several hours, they were close enough that they could see Charon, one of Pluto’s few moons. 

Baekhyun had been running the plan over and over in his head. He knew he didn’t have any room for error on this mission, and he knew that if anything did go wrong he would be the first person that Yixing would most likely blame for the failure. There was too much at risk for Baekhyun to be pulling irrational stunts; he wouldn’t allow Jongdae’s life to slip through his fingers...not when they were this close to him once more. Since Jongdae had been absent, it was up to Yixing to take up the responsibility of surveillance once again. Even though Baekhyun and Jongin had always been each other’s eyes and ears, sometimes it was not enough. There was always a possibility that something unexpected could happen. It had been decided that Jongin would take position from above the event, while Baekhyun would go undercover and blend in with the rest of the party-goers. 

Whatever compelled Alpha to send Rogue to Pluto, out of all planets, seemed questionable enough to Baekhyun. Pluto was, for a lack of a better term, literally  _ freezing _ . The planet’s population in general wasn’t necessarily large: maybe a little less than one-hundred thousand people. Baekhyun had never been to Pluto himself, but he had always heard stories of it’s deeply spiritual and resistant people. The solar system was a large place, and everyone in the galaxy knew that time moved at incredibly different rates depending on where you lived. Yet, Baekhyun believed that time was hardly a concept for the Plutonian people, or at least one they didn’t care for. Rather, they lived based on whenever the sun shone there, which was not often. For large portions of time, Pluto would be shadowed by the giant that is Jupiter, and because of this, the people were incredibly well adapted to their environment; if you had even placed a hand on one of them you might lose that very hand because of their subfreezing body temperatures. Baekhyun wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes through videos that had been supplied for the research portion of their training when Alpha recruited each of them.

In preparation for the harsh environment they would be facing, Alpha had once supplied the Rogue team with special armor that would help shield them from the painfully cold temperatures of the icier planets. It was technology that Rogue had never encountered prior to their recruitment, even Jongdae. The armor itself was black, and was a lot like a second skin. Jongin once voiced that he felt the glass and snake-like appearance was a bit over the top, but he couldn’t complain considering that the suit kept the warm. Snake-like scales were paved all over the suit, and it was the scales that contained the technology necessary to maintain their body temperature levels, just enough for them to stay comfortable. Not only that, but it was capable of protecting them from common injuries such as burns or scrapes. Rogue had never been brave enough to ask Alpha what the technology consisted of, but they could comfortably assume that it was illegal in more ways than one. 

Baekhyun pulled the skin-tight armor from a drawer that he had designated as his own, flinging the fitted, tattered shirt he had been wearing off to the side. He could hear Jongin shuffling directly behind him on the other side of the room, most likely struggling to get the suit on himself. Baekhyun and Jongin always placed bets on who would fall over first in their attempt to get the suit to slip around their ankles. However, this time, no one said a single thing. 

Baekhyun tore his tight pants off, using nothing more than pure foot and leg strength. He hadn’t been eating properly, even prior to Jongdae’s disappearance, so he found the pants slipping off without having to unfasten them. He knew that Jongdae would scold him for it upon his return. Baekhyun unzipped the back of the jumpsuit and slowly slid into the cocoon of scales. Once the suits were on, Jongin and Baekhyun simultaneously turned to one another to zip each other up. Baekhyun couldn’t stand wearing the skin tight suits. For one, they were not designed to hide  _ anything _ . He considered himself lucky that the suits were merely acting as a thermal, and they would put the formal wear that was stored beneath the ship on top of their suits. Although, Baekhyun considered which of the two he hated more: the jumpsuit, or the thick and itchy regalesque formal wear that they wore once in a blue moon. 

Baekhyun, and the rest of Rogue for that matter, was far from royal; but whenever they were forced into the formal wear that had been selected by Alpha nearly three years earlier, Baekhyun felt as if he were someone of utmost importance for once in his life. Each of the designs were tailored and customized for each of the Rogue members. Alpha had  _ supposedly _ bought them off of a royal seamstress who had created a total set of nine; Alpha managed to strike a deal with her and score four of them for the Rogue team. 

Yixing fiddled with the computer intensely. Baekhyun and Jongin could tell that it took Yixing a more considerable amount of time to set everything up in comparison to Jongdae. Surveillance, hacking, intellect. These were all of Jongdae’s specialties, and it wasn’t until each of them noticed his glaringly lacking presence that they realized how much they had taken him for granted this whole time. Baekhyun could feel the guilt rising in his chest to the point that he might have been sick. He gripped the table top of the drawer to stabilize himself as Jongin’s strong yet comforting hand squeezed his shoulder by way of reassurance, and Baekhyun wondered what the younger had been thinking of this whole unhinged situation. 

No indication needed to be made by anyone for people to know that Jongin and Jongdae had never been close...by any definition of the term. Baekhyun felt that a lot of the blame for their lacking relationship stemmed from their respective specialties. Naturally, each member of their team had a specialty of sorts. Jongin spent a lot of time out in the field, doing much of the laborious work that came with stealth. In striking contrast, Jongdae had spent the majority of this last year working within the confines of the ship, and even if Jongdae did have the opportunity to flex his stealth muscles in the field, he had always kept to the devices that should have been strapped to his belt. He always found a way, always found a reason, for them to be in his hand. Jongdae was always a unique kind of stealth operative. There are individuals, much like Jongin, who lived for the thrill and adventure of participating in the ground level surreptitious work; then there was Jongdae...the type of person whose anxiety would be induced by the overwhelming stress of field work. Moreover, after that traumatic day, when he and Baekhyun nearly lost their lives, Jongdae had always found a way to remain close to him. 

Jongin cleared his throat, giving Baekhyun’s shoulder another firm, reassuring squeeze before they departed to tackle the facade that they would be putting forth into the world, “You ready?”

Baekhyun briefly nodded as he pushed himself away from the drawer. They quickly travelled below deck to change into the missing layer of clothing that would go atop the jumpsuits, and as they made their way back up the ladder, they spotted Yixing waiting for them at the top. Yixing gave both of them a once over, and when he seemed satisfied, he clapped a hand onto both of their shoulders. 

“This might be our riskiest and most significant mission yet.” A look of strained calm sprawled across Yixing’s face, “While our assignment here is to create a faux situation to draw out and distract ACE, it is also up to us to get Jongdae back without Alpha finding out. We are going to do our best to kill two birds with one stone. There is absolutely no room for mistakes. Remain calm... _ focused _ . We can’t afford losing Jongdae again—or anyone else for that matter.”

Yixing’s eyes travelled to Baekhyun, and Baekhyun could feel the stare pierce him straight through his fatigued heart. He could feel the sense of dread building in his stomach. For whatever reason, his instincts were screaming and ripping at the edge of his heels, begging him not to leave that spacecraft. Yet, no matter what, he would bring his best friend back. He always would. Today it would be his responsibility to be Jongin’s eyes and ears, since it was Jongin’s turn to take the high ground. The unstable nature of this mission called for Jongin’s particular skill in teleporting in order to get Jongdae out of ACE’s grasp, no matter how small the opportunity window was. Baekhyun found it very hard to believe that ACE would leave Jongdae on his own, so it would prove to be a challenge for the Rogue team to get past whoever might be shackled to Jongdae. It would be up to Baekhyun to blend into the background of the festivities and report on Jongdae’s movements, which would allow Jongin to fulfill his only role in Yixing’s plan. 

Baekhyun shoved the earpiece into his ear, and the wired microphone ran between the plains of his chest, just beneath the jumpsuit fabric. He could see Jongin doing the same in his peripheral vision. For the most part, Rogue felt that goodbyes were pointless, especially if they were all going to see each other within the next few hours anyways. Goodbyes made it seem like none of them would be coming back, that it would be engraved in history somewhere for eternity, and it was a day like today that Baekhyun wished he still believed in that philosophy. After Jongdae...he didn’t know what to think.

But it would be today. Today, he would crack open the world, the heavens, hell itself to get him back. 

~

Whatever celestial powers were at work on Pluto, they must have truly hated the people that inhabited there.

It had been a little over an hour since Rogue had docked their stolen ship a little ways away from the Union festival, and the cold had already set deep within Baekhyun’s bones, regardless of the warmth that the suit had been emitting. Baekhyun knew that planets such as Neptune and Uranus were bad in terms of frigidity, but Pluto really took the cake in this regard. 

It had not taken Baekhyun long to meld himself into the crowd of smiling and frolicing Plutonians. Each of the nine planets of the solar system had a special event like this one, a time of year where each of the planets respectively took a day, some a week, to give thanks for all that had been provided to them. For Plutonians, they celebrated the union of their people to a hellish god. As a deeply spiritual people, they spent at least half of their day crowding the few temples and shrines that were available to them in their capitol. This was also where a greater majority of the Plutonian population lived, there were just some parts of Pluto’s terrain that were uninhabitable due to the weather conditions there. Considering that, for the most part, the planet was an icy wasteland, their people were easily capable of walking the entirety of the planet if they wished. And some people have, Baekhyun heard that it was some sort of spiritual journey to find inner peace of some sort—the reason had always varied based on the person. 

Baekhyun looked to the sleeves of his jackets and noticed the thin layer of frost that had started to gather there. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes and hope that this mission would end prior to him turning into a human popsicle.

He had passed a variety of booths on either side of the walkway, crystal lanterns shone above as if the stars had travelled millions and millions of miles to participate in the festival. Some booths sold food that Baekhyun could never imagine feeding his body, others sold spiritual and or religious keepsakes, and others...well, he couldn’t really figure out what they were selling. 

He scoured the crowd, keeping his eye out for even the smallest change that could clue him in on whether or not ACE had arrived. So far, everything seemed perfectly normal, and no one had questioned Baekhyun’s sudden and outlying appearance amongst the tight-knit community. While the festival was exclusive to the Plutonian community, it hadn’t stopped individuals of neighboring planets such as Uranus and Neptune from making their way over for the celebration. This system didn’t have an established religion; the people were free to believe in whatever they liked, and so naturally there were individuals spread across this system who cherished and worshipped the Plutonian god of darkness. Baekhyun, like much of the Rogue team, had given up on believing in anything a long time ago.

“Baekhyun,” Jongin’s soft voice rang through his ears, “how are things going down there?”

“Everything seems normal...I mean, if this is normal for them, anyways.”

Jongin chuckled, “Everything seems normal on my end as well, I don’t see anything that might be considered out of the ordinary.”

Baekhyun opened his mouth to answer, but the sound of a blood curdling scream filled his ears before he could get a word out. He spun on his heels, looking in each and every direction, trying to determine where the scream came from. He rushed around the corner, but clashed with something hard and solid. 

“I am so—”

Baekhyun felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him, as he frantically pushed himself from the frozen ground. 

“You didn’t think that I’d really let you three come here on your own did you?” A fellinesque smirk smothered Alpha’s face as he took several large, steady steps towards Baekhyun. 

Chaos had been ensuing somewhere behind him. It had all been a trap, a set up. Not just for ACE, but for Rogue, as well. Alpha was going to ensure that he kept his promise from that day at the Callisto station. 

_ You’re dead _ .

Before Alpha could get another word in, the adrenaline that ran through Baekhyun’s veins was encouraging him to flee. And flee he did.

Baekhyun reached for the microphone wire as he ran, “Jongin, it’s a trap. Alpha...he’s here.”

Silence. 

Baekhyun could only consider the worst. Especially, after what happened with Jongdae. He couldn’t fail a second time. Baekhyun was slipping and sliding across the icy streets, rounding all sorts of unfamiliar corners and road forks, and when he saw Jongin he felt as if he could finally breathe. 

Alpha and his lackeys were everywhere. Jongin had been facing off against three men that they used to consider their friends, and all around them, Alpha’s remaining henchmen were slaying people left and right. Innocent people. Men, women,  _ children _ . Baekhyun couldn’t tell if the thunder that rang through his ears was the frantic trembling of his heart or if it was the anger that lingered deep within his soul finally erupting from its dormant state. 

Baekhyun rushed to where Jongin was mauling the last face of the three men, and ripped him from the bloodied man. A wicked flash of light briefly spread across the skies. While it was brief, the skies had been painted burgundy, and when Baekhyun’s eyes met Jongin’s he noticed the particular, deep crimson shadows blanketing Jongin’s features. The anger and panic were rising as the seconds passed; the same distant thunder roared deep within Baekhyun’s ears. 

“Are you okay?” As fast as the sky had contorted with color, it rescinded again. Baekhyun gripped Jongin’s wrists as he inspected his knuckles. When Baekhyun tore his eyes away from Jongin’s bloodied hands, he found that Jongin was as pale as a ghost. His eyes were distant, and Baekhyun couldn’t tell what sort of emotions were running wild in Jongin’s heart. Jongin stumbled briefly, Baekhyun catching him by the arm. 

“What—what is it?” 

Baekhyun followed Jongin’s stare, and Baekhyun could have sworn his heart had stopped. Perhaps, it was time that came to a sudden halt around him, because the blood red lightning that cracked across the sky was answer enough. 

His body swerved toward that path of exploding chaos, and amidst all of it, about a mile away from where they had been standing. The frantic and piercing lightning descended from the Hadean heavens, and not too long after, the familiar thunder that had been groaning in the back of Baekhyun’s mind had exploded like an aftershock. 

“It—” Words evaded him. It were as if every language ever known to man had disappeared, erased by those flaming bolts; and before Baekhyun could even start attempting to re-learn at least one of those languages, Jongin had skirted them away from the pummelled men and in the direction of the lightning. 

It seemed that no matter where they teleported, havoc reigned upon the people of Pluto. Alpha’s followers were everywhere; raiding houses, destroying shrines and temples, the onslaught of killing. 

Now that they were closer to the epicenter of all the action, the flash of Jongdae’s lightning was nearly blinding. A good sign for them. Baekhyun took a moment to assess his surroundings and noticed that this area was more heavily impacted than where he and Jongin had just previously been. Since fires weren’t capable of being sustained on a planet like Pluto, wherever Jongdae’s lightning struck, a thin spout of steam manifested, and Baekhyun had suspected that Jongdae had used his ability more than usual considering a thin layer of it was beginning to fill the atmosphere. 

“Where do you think he—” before he could finished his sentence, Baekhyun had been knocked clean off of his feet. A young man laying directly on top of him.

“I—” the young man was scrambling to his feet and held out a hand to help Baekhyun from the ground, “I’m so, so sorry!”

And before Baekhyun could get a word out of his mouth, the young man had taken off. He watched as the olive green uniform that the young man had been wearing faded and merged with the steam. Baekhyun eyed Jongin for a short moment in contemplation.

Jongin pointed out in a matter-of-factly tone, “It was most likely an accident.”

Baekhyun rolled his eyes as Jongin’s vague smugness. And then it hit him: the olive green uniform. That man had been a member of team ACE, and at the very moment that Baekhyun considered dashing after him, Kim Jongdae was there...hundreds of feet in front of his very eyes. 

~

TEAM ACE

The minute Alpha’s men had suddenly started jumping the innocent men and women around them, Jongdae knew it had all been a set up. He should have suspected it from the very beginning. During that one hour that Minseok had allotted Jongdae to work, he, Minseok, and Junmyeon had spent it hacking into Alpha’s computer system, which hadn’t yielded much information. Alpha wasn’t an idiot, and he most likely knew that Jongdae was going to be asked to hack his useless computer. It had been filled with files and information that Jongdae had already been aware of. If anyone had known Jongdae’s hacking code better than himself, it was Alpha; he had studied it to a tee, lived and breathed for its near perfection. 

Jongdae knew there was only one thing he could do when he recognized one of the many faces that bolted towards him, and that was to fight back. He could feel the buzz of his lightning electrifying him from deep within. He knew the consequences that came with using his ability, but if it meant defending the innocent, he would do it. Even if it meant being caught by Alpha himself, and he knew that all of this was partially for that reason. If Alpha knew that Jongdae was aware of his scheming, Alpha would go out of his way to make sure that those plans didn’t go awry. 

As much as he didn’t want to reveal this side of him to people like Minseok and Junmyeon, now wasn’t the time for him to be worried about how the enemy might study him. Jongdae took a deep breath, and when he exhaled, the bolt of lightning came down swiftly and strategically. They say that lightning never strikes in the same spot twice, so Jongdae made sure to live up to that standard. He couldn’t even bring himself to feel any sort of sympathy for the now electrified colleague. Rogue had always commended him for being quick and agile during their weekly training sessions, and was notorious for never missing a single one of his targets, even though he had been insecure about his ability more than anything in the universe. 

He could feel Minseok at his back, fighting alongside him and Junmyeon. Both of those men were at their peak advantage, especially Minseok. Seeing the two of them in action merely confirmed all of the rumors that had ever been spoken about them. The confirmation in Jongdae’s heart surfaced when Junmyeon created the basis of what would have been a sword, and Minseok bringing it to life. The rumor which claimed that Junmyeon and Minseok were only able to fight the way they did was because they had each other was more than just a mere hearsay. He never really understood what people had been referring to, but now everything was made clear. The way they fought together was much like a dance. The intense and equal cooperation of two individuals; if even one of them had been out of step, both of them would falter. The reason Minseok and Junmyeon were so successful was not because they had power, not because they worked for an organization that could provide them infinite resources, but because they just so happened to have one another. Two abilities that would be rendered useless if they didn’t have the other. He imagined that the rest of ACE operated on the same philosophy. It was the very moment that Jongdae realized that ACE was no better, or worse, than Rogue. Their team had flaws, their abilities had limitations. It was this moment that Jongdae wondered why he had always been so afraid of them, why everyone else had always been so afraid of them. If their team had flaws, that meant that they had weaknesses. 

Jongdae had gathered a lot of information as he hacked his way through their Captain’s personal computer in order to override ACE’s expired immunity to the galactic laws. He had learned a lot about the ACE team members just through the documents that resided on that computer. The dysfunctionality of their team, solely based on their respective abilities, was apparent. It confused Jongdae a great deal, and he wondered what sort of person would put together a team of people who had such polar opposite capabilities. There was a higher risk for failure and interteam clashing. To mix fire with water and ice, the mixing of wind and earth, it all seemed imbalanced. Yet, Jongdae knew that there was a lot he didn’t know.

The likeness of that ice sword to a metal one had been impeccable, and Jongdae wondered how the two of them discovered that they could use one another to strengthen themselves in combat. It was something Jongdae had never considered when he worked on assignments with the Rogue team. He never really thought about how each of the Rogue abilities were so different from one another. The only thing that each of their abilities had in common was the lightness that was associated with them. Some a literal lightness, for the others, the mere essence of it. However, it made sense as to why Alpha and Yixing assigned the people they had to the Rogue team. Baekhyun was one of the galaxy’s best light contortionists that Jongdae ever had the pleasure of knowing; Jongin, the swiftest of teleporters that he had ever come into contact with; and Yixing—no one’s leadership could ever measure up to his, and as much as Jongdae hated sitting through the many healing sessions from over the years, he would rather suffer through the pain than not have him. 

The three of them were surrounded, and Jongdae suddenly felt suffocated in Minseok’s worn uniform. Even though he was their captive, Minseok convinced Jongdae to put the uniform on; firstly, for warmth, and secondly, for covertness. However, Jongdae considered the latter to be the least of his worries, especially if Alpha was there. If anything, the uniform would do more to attract Alpha. Jongdae was vaguely aware that the people and leaders of Pluto sided with ACE’s organization, and the minute they would notice the uniforms as ACE...they wouldn’t have given them a second glance. However, since the people of Pluto never cared for Alpha’s cause and his reign, Rogue would have stuck out like a sore thumb if they ever cared to venture here. 

Minseok huffed as he ripped his sword from the chest of a man he had just pinned down, “I should have known this was going to be a trap.”

Directly to Minseok’s left, and Jongdae’s right, Junmyeon was gulping down air as fast as he could, “We need to get out of here.”

Jongdae felt compelled to agree with them, but he could feel something tugging at the thread that unravelled from his soul. 

He shot down another bolt of lightning. The men just kept coming and coming, and as bad as Jongdae felt about cutting each of them down, he knew he was doing the right thing. 

Jongdae heard the brief static of the earpiece that Minseok had let him borrow prior to getting off of the aircraft, Kyungsoo’s voice erupted in his ears, “Minseok! We need back-up,  _ now _ . Sehun isn’t holding up too well.”

Jongdae could feel Minseok’s back against his own, his muscles tensed through the thick fabric of his spare uniform. It had been somewhat of a relief that the greater majority of the Plutonian men had been fighting alongside ACE, because it was the only thing that was granting them a moment to organize themselves. Minseok, Junmyeon, and Jongdae all turned to one another simultaneously, and even though the desire to gulp down as much air as they possibly could was an attractive idea, they didn’t have the luxury of time on their side.

Junmyeon placed a hand on his knee and let out a series of panting breaths before volunteering to race to where Sehun and Kyungsoo were most likely fighting against their own odds. 

“Are you crazy?” Minseok shouted above the terrified screams, “We need you here too.”

Junmyeon shook his head in silence, “Sehun is already is bad enough shape, and if he goes down…”

A pained looked sprawled across Junmyeon’s face as he spoke the words he never wished to considered. Jongdae figured that Junmyeon was going to go to Kyungsoo and Sehun, even if it meant going against Minseok’s wishes, because he knew for better or for worse that’s where he needed to be.

“...if Sehun goes down, Kyungsoo will be all on his own. Chanyeol will have to look over Sehun if something does happen.”

Minseok sighed through his nostrils and blinked away what looked to be tears of some sort, “Okay—okay...go, and be safe. Radio us when you make it over there.”

Junmyeon nodded and darted off in Kyungsoo’s direction.

Minseok brought his hand to his ear, “Kyungsoo...Junmyeon’s on his way. Make sure that Sehun lasts long enough for him to join you—Chanyeol? When Junmyeon arrives, I need you to get Sehun out of there, do you understand?”

A brief silence and then, “Copy that.”

Minseok had been gripping the ice sword so hard that blood blisters had formed on the palm of his hand. He opted for letting the sword melt away, the water running like a stream in between the crevices of his fingers. Jongdae tore his eyes away from Minseok’s hands at the very moment that one of Alpha’s men had been rushing right toward Minseok. 

Jongdae’s voice ripped through him in a way it never had before, “ _ LOOK OUT! _ ”

Jongdae grabbed Minseok by the collar of his uniform, pulling Minseok as close to him as he possibly could. At the same time, the thickest lightning bolt he’d ever summoned rained down on their assailant. The moment the bolt made impact with the man, Jongdae and Minseok had been sent flying. The sonic boom of the thunder that recoiled from the contact was howling in Jongdae’s ears.

Jongdae crawled several feet to where Minseok had landed, “Are you okay?!”

Minseok groaned as he quickly sat up, scanning Jongdae until their eyes met, “I—I’m fine. We need to get out of here. There’s not much we can do now.”

Jongdae could still hear his thunder rolling away in the distance as he and Minseok pushed themselves off of the ground. Minseok clasped his hand onto Jongdae’s shoulder and gazed at him for a moment too long.

“Thank you,” it was almost a whisper amidst the commotion, but Jongdae had heard it regardless. A small smile formed on both of their faces, Minseok gave his shoulder a quick and reassuring squeeze. 

“Let’s go,” Minseok cleared his throat, “We need to get to the others before something happens.”

Jongdae nodded, and it was all the response that Minseok needed before the both of them spirited away.

~

TEAM ROGUE

Byun Baekhyun fell to his knees. He almost couldn’t believe it, that Kim Jongdae...was helping the enemy, and not just any enemy, but  _ the _ ACE—Kim Minseok, their leader. He watched helplessly as they raced off in the same direction that Minseok’s companion had run in just moments ago. 

Baekhyun had no control of his body; he was pushing himself off of the ground, taking sloppy and ragged steps toward Jongdae. 

“Jong—Jongdae…” his name felt like bile on his tongue, as the whisper escaped Baekhyun’s lips. He could feel the pull of the invisible string that connected their souls towards Jongdae.

Baekhyun was desperate, all he wanted—all he needed—was for his best friend to see him, to know that they were there...that he had come for him. 

“ _ Jongdae.” _ His voice was a bit louder now.

“Baekhyun,” Jongin warned.

“ _ KIM JONGDAE _ !!” His voice had cracked, more than once, in the few split seconds it took him to howl Jongdae’s name. 

A sort of mental tunnel vision erupted in Baekhyun’s mind’s eye. He couldn’t keep himself from walking, then running, and then sprinting in Jongdae’s direction. It were as if his body weren’t his own, as if someone had cast some sweet wicked spell. He was tearing through the thick crowd of people, pushing and shoving, drowning in their screams. 

No. No.  _ NO _ . He was going to get his best friend back, damn the consequences. 

Defeat was beginning to settle in Baekhyun’s soul. He gathered what little energy he had left and poured it into the brightest light that he could properly manifest. Some people shrieked, some people fainted at the brightness that was being emitted from Baekhyun’s slender fingertips. 

“Baekhyun!” he could hear the frustration in Jongin’s faint, yet frantic, voice trailing him from behind. “Baekhyun,  _ stop _ !”

The crowd of people cleared, and all that was left standing between Baekhyun and Jongdae were the several hundred feet of icy gravel. He could feel the tears streaming down his face, fast and hot, “Ki—Kim  _ Jongdae _ !”

Baekhyun was several more tears away from giving up, until he noticed Jongdae falter. Baekhyun sank to his knees once more. He was completely out of breath, out of energy, and convinced that his legs couldn’t move any further. Baekhyun hoped it wasn’t just a mere figment of his imagination when he saw Jongdae halt and turn, locking eyes with him across the vast distance that separated them. Jongin crouched to Baekhyun’s level, saying god knows what, and in that moment, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered other than the fact that he was there. Jongdae was there. He had seen him. 

The smile that had unknowingly formed on Baekhyun’s face quickly faded when Kim Minseok backtracked to where Jongdae had stopped. Jongdae looked back and forth between Baekhyun and Minseok for a brief moment, as the two of them exchanged a few words. Baekhyun couldn’t read the expression on Minseok’s face, but whatever it had been, it was enough for Jongdae to start turning away from them. Baekhyun could feel his racing heart pumping so fast that he genuinely believe that his chest might have cracked open. He watched as Jongdae briefly fiddled with his ear and just as Baekhyun gathered enough strength in his knees to push himself up from the ground, it was gone.

_ Tap. _

Pause.

_ Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. _

Pause.

_ Tap. Tap. Tap. _

Jongdae. The code.  _ Their _ code.

Baekhyun frantically ripped at the clothing material that got in between him and his microphone, but before he could even undo a single button…

Jongdae was gone.


	13. CHAPTER 13: TEAM ACE

Kim Minseok was vaguely aware of Jongdae running alongside him as they raced toward where the remainder of the ACE team was most likely struggling. He knew that he should have left Sehun to man the ship with Chanyeol, considering that he was still recovering. Minseok knew that it would have been a safer option for Chanyeol to stay with the ship, and keep an eye on the rest of the team. Since Chanyeol was an fire wielder, he ran the risk of melting at least ninety-five percent of Pluto’s icy environment, and Chanyeol was aware of this. He had anticipated the order to stay put and did so without complaint. However, it was a moment like this that Minseok wished he would have left Sehun there instead. If he was being honest with himself, he knew that Chanyeol was in much better condition, and would rather have Chanyeol burning and melting everything, instead of Sehun nearly passing out because his own ability was draining him faster than usual.

A brief click sounded in Minseok’s ear as they ran, “Minseok, I’ve got Sehun...Kyungsoo and Junmyeon had to pull out, there were just too many people.”

_ Shit _ . Minseok could feel the anger building in his core, an anger that was mixed with one part frustration and one part fear. His legs were burning from all of the running, but he continued to push himself until he was able to see the faces of his team members again.

It wasn’t until he heard a heartbreaking howl, roaring and tearing through Pluto’s darkness, that Minseok felt his steps falter, “ _ Kim Jongdae _ !”

Both Minseok and Jongdae stumbled as they lost their footing and turned towards that desperate voice. Minseok felt that surprise was too modest of a term to describe his shock when he recognized two out of the remaining three men from the Rogue team, struggling to keep their bodies upright, from a considerable distance away. 

“Oh—oh my  _ god _ ,” the words tumbled from Jongdae’s lips, and Minseok could visibly see the mix of confusing emotions that ran rampant across Jongdae’s face. “They...they’re here, Minseok...Rogue—my team, they’re here.”

He watched as what seemed to be happy tears began streaming down Jongdae’s cheeks. However, something within Minseok stirred, some emotion he could not place in the database of emotions that dwelling within his mind. And for whatever reason, Minseok wanted Jongdae to be selfish, just like he had been that day in the interrogation room. It was the first time that Minseok had heard anyone call his name other than his team members in a long time, and he wanted to know how one person could cause such a sudden disturbance in his life. Jongdae had been the first person to see Minseok cry ever since he buried Luhan all of those years ago, and now this. He settled for ignoring it, but before he could even get a grip on his own thoughts, his hand was enclosed around Jongdae’s forearm.

Jongdae looked as if he had been broken out of a trance, as if Minseok’s touch was the only thing anchoring him to the reality of the situation. They locked eyes, and for a brief moment, Minseok felt his mental world tilt. He tightened his grip on Jongdae to stabilize himself, and when he finally shook the feeling away, he cleared his throat. 

It felt like time had stopped; the chaos around them stilled, and it was just them. 

“Minseok,” Jongdae’s voice was a hoarse whisper, and Minseok’s heart tightened. “Minseok...what am I supposed to do?”

Minseok wasn’t entirely sure what Jongdae was asking,  _ why _ he was asking, but he offered the only option that sprung up to his mind. He knew he didn’t have the time or energy to stop Jongdae from doing whatever his heart truly desired. Realistically, they didn’t need him, they never did. It had been an irresponsible, compulsive decision that Junmyeon had made in order to protect any information that would have gotten out about that meeting at Callisto. When Minseok discovered that Jongdae was a direct spy, who was working for the pirate leader, he knew that Junmyeon’s decision to take him was wrong. Junmyeon knew it too. They had realized that Jongdae wasn’t going to be able to yield any information about the ACE team because it was information that Jongdae already knew; and he knew that the remaining Rogue members most likely already knew the details of that failed meeting. Junmyeon had learned that the Rogue team was as specialized unit of stealth operatives, whose main objective was to track the whereabouts of Minseok’s team and report on their movements. Minseok couldn’t bring himself to consider the natural undercover work that had been conditioned into Jongdae, even now while he was within Minseok’s grasp. But, if Minseok was going to do one good thing in his life, he could let it be this.

“There is a way,” Minseok began, “if that is what you want...there is, um—there’s a dial on the right hand side of the microphone wire. Turn that dial downwards three times, and the radio frequency will reset. Once that happens, punch in Rogue’s frequency code. I’m sure you all use the same frequency, if your team is anything like mine.”

Jongdae looked at Minseok with a look that he interpreted as disbelief, and perhaps something like gratitude. Minseok let go of Jongdae’s arm, and turned to leave, “I need to go meet with the others...if the situation is as bad as Chanyeol claims, then as their leader I need to be there to guide them.”

Minseok briefly caught the dumbfounded look that had fallen across Jongdae’s features before turning away and taking off towards those people who needed him most.

~

Minseok’s words had quickly sunk into Jongdae’s mind, he knew he didn’t have the luxury of time on his side to consider and contemplate everything he had said. But there was an offer there: his freedom. 

_ There is a way,  _ if that is what you want.

It had only been three days—the longest three days of his life—and he almost couldn’t believe that there was some sort of reconsideration dwelling deep within him. He could feel the pull of the string that connected him to Baekhyun, he could feel the agony that stirred in both of their souls. Being with his team was all he wanted—being with Baekhyun, his best friend, was all he wanted. There was a sense of dread that plagued him whenever he tried to shut his eyes. All he could imagine was that day...that day that he and Baekhyun nearly lost their lives together. The fear of never seeing his best friend again, and he was prepared to protect him to whatever end. 

He swallowed the desire that lingered in his heart. The happy tears that had spilled from his eyes just moments ago now burned. Jongdae did exactly as Minseok had instructed: turning the dial three times, and resetting the frequency with Rogue’s distinct code, clicking the earpiece back into its proper place. Without any hesitation, Jongdae sent the only message that he could genuinely think of.

_ Tap.  _

Pause.

_ Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. _

Pause.

_ Tap. Tap. Tap _ .

It was all he could offer both Baekhyun and himself for comfort, because Jongdae knew he couldn’t go back with them. As much as he wanted to run to Baekhyun and be engulfed in those strong yet slender arms, he knew that today couldn’t be the day. He could wait it out for a bit longer. Jongdae knew that if he left with Rogue now, the chances of Alpha focusing his efforts on them would only grow. Alpha wanted Jongdae dead, more than any of the other Rogue team members. None of Alpha’s men who were caught by the enemy ever lived to tell their tale; their position had been compromised, and Alpha insisted that it was a testament to his men’s sloppiness rather than actually hearing them out. Alpha had always been cold and calculated, and if one of his plans had ever gone awry, he believed that it wasn’t necessarily his fault for their failure, but the people who had been directly involved in carrying the plan out. So, if something did go wrong, Alpha’s way of coping with the failure was to merely dispatch those individuals who caused the problem in the first place, and now Jongdae was in that very compromising situation. He wouldn’t let his friends get dragged into the punishment. He could never live with himself if they had. If there truly was an afterlife that people venture to after departing from their current life, Jongdae firmly believed that he wouldn’t be able to face his friends in that life if something did happen to them because of him.

As painful as it was, Jongdae turned away from two of the most important people in his life, and chased after Minseok. 

Minseok was too far ahead of Jongdae to call out to him, and it shocked Jongdae how Minseok was able to run as far as he did in the short amount of time he had taken to send Baekhyun that message. He could feel the thread that ran between Baekhyun and himself burning, as if Baekhyun were crying out for Jongdae to turn back. But he wouldn’t—he couldn’t.

Jongdae willed his legs to move faster and faster as the seconds passed. He needed to get to Minseok and the rest of the ACE team before they had time to take off, and he knew he didn’t have enough time to switch the radio frequencies back...even then, he didn’t even know what ACE’s frequency was. He sprinted with all of his might, pushing past the freezing bodies of the Plutonian people, calling out for Minseok with what voice he had left. He was still too far, but he began gaining some ground when he noticed Minseok quickly turn his head, as if he were looking back to see if Jongdae had followed.

Jongdae felt as if the anesthetic on his numb heart was finally beginning to wear off, as Minseok tripped over his own feet when he noticed Jongdae racing towards him. 

“Minseok!” Jongdae’s throat was burning, as if he had been trekking in the Venusian desserts for nearly a week.

Minseok gathered the strength to bring himself to his feet again, he couldn’t have been more than one hundred feet in front of Jongdae. Jongdae didn’t have the time to ask why Minseok looked rattled.

“What are you—” Jongdae didn’t catch the rest of Minseok’s question, as his fingers circled Minseok’s wrist, launching the both of them in the direction of ACE’s ship, where the rest of the ACE members would be waiting for them. 

~

Even hours after Jongdae had hauled Minseok up the ramp of the ship, Minseok felt like he couldn’t catch his breath. He was completely startled when he caught the sight of Jongdae running towards him after leaving him behind. The feeling of Jongdae’s hand lingered around his wrist as he leaned back against the cool surface of the co-pilot’s chair. Sehun had set the ship to cruise on autopilot, and it was Minseok’s turn to watch over the controls while everyone rested. 

None of them could sleep, save for Sehun whose body and ability had been so drained that he naturally passed out the minute he hit the cot. Kyungsoo was sitting directly to Minseok’s left in the pilot’s seat, regardless of the fact that he needn't there. Yet, there was something comforting about Kyungsoo’s presence; just knowing that he was there, and awake, with Minseok made him feel a bit calmer. Kyungsoo wasn’t a man of many words, and for that Minseok was grateful. They just sat there and relished in each other’s silence. 

He was vaguely aware of Jongdae and Chanyeol’s presence at the round conference table tens of feet behind them, making small talk about random things, their voices hushed to keep Sehun from waking up. Even though Chanyeol knew that Sehun could peacefully sleep through bullet fire on a battlefield, he still gave him that consideration. 

“You’re always writing something,” Chanyeol pointed out to Jongdae in a matter of fact fashion. 

Jongdae cleared his throat, “It’s just a habit, I guess.”

“What is it you write? Do you write stories or something?”

Jongdae had been silent, so Minseok left it to his imagination and figured that Jongdae had given some non-verbal response.

“I write letters,” Jongdae corrected. 

Minseok pushed himself from his post, knowing that Kyungsoo wouldn’t complain, and found a seat at that roundtable with the other two men. Chanyeol’s eyes briefly met Minseok’s, and before Chanyeol could ask any other questions, he silently dismissed himself—leaving Minseok and Jongdae alone. 

Minseok cleared his throat, “That man...the one who called out your name…”

Jongdae put the pen down on the table, leaving the paper he had been writing on to dry for a moment, “He’s special to me.”

Minseok wasn’t sure what to do with that information, especially since he hardly knew anything about Jongdae, other than his vague professional background. 

Jongdae grabbed at the piece of paper and started folding it into halves, “He’s my best friend. Actually—it’s quite funny...we used to hate each other, and now look at us. After we became friends, we both started leaving each other notes, just to remind the other of how grateful we were to have the other in our lives…”

Jongdae noticed the strain in Minseok’s shoulders relax as he leaned back against the wall, quickly glancing at the other members of his team and then back to Jongdae.

“Anyways, over time, it went from being little reminders to full scale letters,” Minseok could feel something twist deep down in his heart as he explained, “that would detail whatever was on our mind. It could have been something as stupid as a joke, or something as egregious as the horrors we encountered on our missions. The writing itself is therapeutic to a certain degree.”

Minseok hadn’t deemed any sort of response, and this seemed like answer enough for Jongdae to continue.

“We don’t send the notes to one another,” Jongdae briefly chuckled, “if anything, there was a point where we were too embarrassed because of some of the things we had written and agreed to keep them to ourselves. Yet, curiosity always got the better of us—and we both knew where the other was hiding their stash of notes, you see—so we got caught on the regular reading the notes anyways. They were supposed to be for the writer’s eyes only, but we fell into this odd routine of us being completely raw and honest with each other on paper, and then snooping behind the other’s back to reach the honesty that we were never able to admit to one another’s faces.”

One of the corners lifted on the side of Minseok’s mouth as he recalled all of the times that Luhan would wake up at the very same moment that Minseok would be leaving a note for him to read for later. He would just rip the note from Minseok’s hand and read it aloud for both of them to hear. 

Minseok shook the memory away, and lifted his eyes to Jongdae, who was already staring back at him. He didn’t even know why he was sitting in front of Jongdae right now; he didn’t really feel like talking in general, and yet he found comfort and conflict in listening to Jongdae talk about the habits he shared with his friend. It was the kind of friendship he hadn’t had with someone since Luhan, and for whatever reason, he envied them.

“Your friend…” Minseok wasn’t sure what sort of questions were okay to ask, and what he should steer clear from, “What is his name?”

Contemplation stretched across Jongdae’s face for a short moment, as he shoved the note deep into his pocket, “Baekhyun. His name is Baekhyun.”

Even the  _ way _ Jongdae said Baekhyun’s name made the envy in his heart flare, but he pushed it down towards the back of his mind. He could tell that Jongdae was struggling, and he could have only imagined how difficult it was for him to give up going after the Rogue team and coming back with him instead. 

The words were out before Minseok could stop them, “Tell me about him.”

“What?”

Minseok took a deep breath, “Baekhyun—why don’t you tell me about him?”

He could understand how Jongdae might be hesitant telling someone like Minseok, who Jongdae considered to be the enemy, something like this...someone he deeply cared for. It had been about eight years, and Minseok still wasn’t capable of opening up to anyone about Luhan...not even his own team members. 

“He—” Jongdae looked as if he struggled to find the words as he ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. His hand lingered in his hair for a moment, before it slid from the locks and rested on the sleek white table. “He is everything that I am not. The kind of person that a young child hopes to be when they reach adulthood. He’s that kind of person. As I mentioned previously, he and I...we used to hate each other, more than any two people could hate one another.”

Jongdae chuckled, most likely recalling some of the ridiculous memories that lingered in his mind. 

“It wasn’t long ago that we became friends, it took both of us nearly losing our lives to recognize that we couldn’t live without the other,” a soft sigh escaped Jongdae’s lips as if the horrid memory flashed before his very eyes, “and ever since that day, we’ve been inseparable...at least, until now.”

Minseok wasn’t sure what to say. Even though it had been implicit, Minseok had lent Jongdae the opportunity to walk away from ACE’s iron clutch, and yet here he was. Despite the long list of suspicions that loitered in the back of his mind, Minseok chose to trust his instincts for the first time in his life. He chose to trust that Jongdae’s intentions were good, because if he were anything like Minseok...no person could ever just run into the arms of the enemy and cast aside their best friend the way he had on Pluto. That very decision spoke to Jongdae’s mysterious character. One that Minseok was more intrigued to learn about, and had launched him into internal conflict.

He didn’t know if it was because Jongdae had saved his life and thus felt indebted to him, or if there was some underlying reason for the blooming comfort that dwelled and churned in the mixing pot of emotions that swarmed Minseok. All he did know was that he was tempted to respond to him, share his own stories, open up the vault filled with Luhan’s presence and let Jongdae have a peek inside. And that itself was enough of a reason for him to allow Jongdae to breach his first wall of defense.


	14. CHAPTER 14: TEAM ACE

It had been nearly an hour since Minseok silently excused himself from the foreign roundtable of what Jongdae learned was the 326. He considered all of the things that Jongdae had, and hadn’t, told Minseok. There were a lot of things said, and a lot of things left unsaid, and Jongdae wasn’t sure why he suddenly cared about what Minseok had to think. 

He needed to constantly remind himself that Minseok was not supposed to be his friend, they were rooted in gravely different causes. However, everything that happened at the Callisto station had Jongdae reconsidering his allegiances. He would always be loyal to the Rogue team, no matter the circumstances. They were really the only family he had left, because blood was not thicker than water.

He wasn’t exactly sure what time it was. When you’ve been soaring through the midst of deep space, you never really could keep track of the time, especially if you worked for a team like Rogue, who were constantly submerged in Alpha’s shadow. All he knew was that it was late, most likely early morning at the very least. He could catch Kyungsoo and Junmyeon’s soft snores, here and there, as he sat under the dim lighting of the overhead lamp. He considered the differences in Rogue and ACE’s technology, and there was a significant difference between the two. Jongdae’s mind’s eye painted over the glossy and sleek technology, which the ACE team had been accustomed to for years, with the rickety and run-down Rogue workspace. Jongdae hadn’t realized how similar in shape and size the 326 was to Rogue’s own ship. Both interiors contained all of the essential things, such as a place to sleep, workspace, and storage spaces; yet, it was the quality of these items that drastically differed. It was unlike Jongdae to assume anything about anyone, especially in regards to their upbringing and background. He couldn’t bring himself to assume that Minseok made enough money, or in combination of the entire ACE team for that matter, to afford such a luxurious aircraft. 

Jongdae’s eyes slid to the makeshift bed that Minseok who, for a while, had trouble falling asleep. It was the first time in nearly two days that he had seen Minseok sleep, and he couldn’t help but wondered if Minseok was anything like Yixing. 

As a leader, Yixing had undertaken a lot of the responsibility for the team that fell on his shoulders, and Jongdae knew that if the remainder of Rogue didn’t force him to sleep, didn’t force him to take breaks just to eat, he would shoulder all of that burden on his own. 

Jongdae studied the blank canvas that was Kim Minseok’s face. Despite the fact that he was the most infamous leader of their time, he looked as if he got eight hours of sleep every day, ate three square meals, and had time to rest in between all of the special ops and anything else ACE was responsible for. Jongdae could feel deep down in his heart that none of it could be remotely close to the truth. Even though Minseok put up a solid front for the men he was entrusted to lead and direct, Jongdae could tell that there was something—someone—hidden under that crumbling, near perfect exterior. And Jongdae was going to make it his mission to figure out what that was; he would make sure to crack the non-universal code that was Kim Minseok. He would force his way through if he had to, because the longer Jongdae gazed at the motionless figure that was draped across the sheets, the more his curiosity was starved. And he was looking to satisfy that hunger. 

Jongdae’s attention was drawn away from the young leader by the sound of rustling sheets. He followed to sound of the noise to the corner of the room where Sehun was now squinting against the dim lighting of the aircraft’s main cabin. He pushed the thin, pale blankets away and swung his legs over the edge of his bed. Jongdae averted his eyes from the youngest member, and went back to scrawling minute thoughts onto one of the many pieces of paper that Kyungsoo had found hidden away and supplied him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jongdae spotted Sehun settling down into the chair across from him. For a long while, neither of them said a thing. The two of them just sat there, relishing in the other person’s silence; at one point, Jongdae couldn’t tell where his own breathing started and where Sehun’s ended. Their breathing had fallen into an unspoken yet comforting synchronicity.

“You should get some sleep, you know,” Jongdae’s eyes were torn away from the paper, and lingered on Sehun, who was seemingly half-awake.

Jongdae set the pen down on the table, “I’m not too tired.”

Sehun sighed, “We aren’t going to hurt you, you know?”

There was a brief silence, and Jongdae felt that the statement-like question was more threatening than the claim itself. 

“I heard…” Sehun edged the chair closer to the table so that he would place his arms flat on the tabletop, “I heard what you did to save Minseok, and I will forever be indebted to you for that.”

For whatever reason, Jongdae felt the words settling in all of the wrong places. The words were disconcerting and surprising all the same. For the last several years, Jongdae had heard nothing but awful things about the great Kim Minseok, and the remainder of his iconic team. A lot of the information that came in about them had been nothing more than mere rumors, hearsay, and unreliable hand-me-down stories of other people’s ACE confrontations. Jongdae had heard the tens of stories that described a variety of verbal and physical confrontations between the individual ACE members themselves. The entirety of the Rogue team couldn’t believe that the most powerful and fear enticing group in the galaxy was  _ that _ disfuncional and hateful towards one another. Even though Jongdae had only been with them for a few days, he could see the web of lies shattering before his very eyes.

“It must not be easy for you right now, especially since you are here with us, instead of the people you really want to be with,” Sehun’s voice was soothing, and Jongdae could feel his eyelids getting heavier and heavier, but he remained aware and alert for Sehun’s sake. “If I had been in your shoes, back there, I would have ran into the arms of my best friend in a heartbeat.” 

Jongdae couldn’t tell if Sehun was suspicious or if he was attempting to comfort him, or if it was a little bit of both. Either way, there was something intriguing about Sehun’s bold nature that drew Jongdae’s interest in the same way that gravity pulled people closer to the ground. 

“I guess what I’m trying to get at is...I know how hard it can be—being separated from the people you care most about, and if you need someone to ramble to, feel free to come and find me anytime while you’re here with us.”

Jongdae was nearly dumbfounded, and it wasn’t because he considered Sehun to be an awful or inconsiderate person. Sehun’s forgiving nature came as a surprise to Jongdae; he was treating him as if he were nothing more than just another ordinary human. It didn’t matter if Jongdae was Rogue. To Sehun, he was just Jongdae. 

Jongdae swallowed what was left of his nearly diminished pride, “I didn’t save him for any of you...I saved him because I knew it was the right thing to do. And I would like to believe that if the situation had been different, any of you might have saved my best friend if someone were about to attack him from behind.”

For a split second, Baekhyun’s face flashed where Sehun’s should have been. A surge of powerful emotions suddenly boiled over the edge of Jongdae’s heart. He hadn’t felt the tears that were running down his face until Sehun’s face contorted with something that looked like a cross between concern and confusion. Jongdae made no move to wipe the tears away, but rather let those tears serve as a reminder as to why he was doing all of this, why he was here with Sehun and not with Baekhyun, or Jongin, or Yixing. 

Somehow in between all of the conversation and the mindless thoughts, Minseok had pulled up a chair next to Jongdae. He hadn’t even heard Minseok stir or shift, and yet he had snuck past Jongdae’s well trained ears. Jongdae’s eyes drifted to Sehun in an attempt to gauge his reaction, but he looked completely unphased. 

“You weren’t supposed to hear any of that, Seok,” Sehun’s hand half-caressed the table, his slim fingers were bent slightly for comfort, his voice nothing more than a mere whisper. 

Jongdae was unsure if there was a thick tension in the air, or if everything had suddenly become awkward. Minseok may have joined them at the table, but his lack of any remote interest in the conversation was far away. Jongdae’s ears felt as if they were on fire, and he could only imagine what shade of red they had turned because of the embarrassment he felt. If Minseok had heard what he said... 

Jongdae dared to glance in Minseok’s direction, only to find that he was already staring at him. He couldn’t help but wonder what was running through his mind.

~

Minseok was dragged from the depths of the first night of real sleep by the sound of mumbling voices. He wasn’t entirely sure what time it was, but he must have slept enough for his circadian rhythm to draw him out of sleep this early. Minseok had never been one to sleep soundly throughout the night. If he wasn’t being plagued by the stress of work, and the daunting expectations that the Captain held for him, then he was being chased out of sleep by the same nightmares he’d been having for years now. As a result of the madness that had been ensuing over the last several days, Minseok had not gotten a wink of sleep. He had been running on pure adrenaline. 

Minseok followed the sound of the whispering voices to the conference table, where he was surprised to find Jongdae and Sehun sitting. He couldn’t make out exactly what they were talking about due to the haziness of Minseok’s mind, but he could tell it was a more serious conversation based on their tones. Minseok was about to get up off of the various sheets and blankets he had stacked on top of one another for support, until Jongdae’s voice finally rang through his ears clearly. 

“...I saved him because it was the right thing to do. And I would like to believe that if the situation had been different, any of you might have saved my best friend if someone were about to attack him from behind.”

Minseok wasn’t sure if he could bring himself to get up after hearing those words. He had been trying not to think about the fact that Jongdae had saved him...him, of all people. The enemy. And now that there was a reason attached, Minseok felt as if he were anchored to the floor, too afraid to move, just in case Jongdae offered up any more explanation. There was a moment of silence, and Minseok figured that Jongdae wasn’t going to be elaborating any further, so he furtively pushed himself from the blankets and padded over to where the two were looking at one another in a sort of light contemplation. 

Minseok took a seat directly to Jongdae’s left, who flinched a bit in what seemed to be surprise. Sehun turned to Minseok and cleared his throat, “You weren’t supposed to hear any of that, Seok.”

If it had been anyone else calling him by that infuriating nickname, Minseok might have snapped, but it was the only comfort that he could provide Sehun in a line of work such as this. Since Sehun was the youngest of the five, Minseok felt obligated to protect him in a way that was different than the others. When Sehun had been recruited, he was nothing more than a child, at least in comparison to the rest of the team. He had barely turned eighteen, and he was scared. Sehun had been groomed from an early age to be the Captain’s pilot. His father had been one of the best pilot’s in this system, a complete legend...at least until Sehun, who had been given the praise at the ripe age of seventeen. Over the last seven years, he has only gotten better and better, and if given the opportunity, he could be unstoppable. During their first couple of years together, everyone on the ACE team referred to Minseok as ‘sir.’ Nothing more, nothing less. It wasn’t until Sehun had fallen victim to a serious illness that had been spreading rapidly across the galaxy that Minseok gained his first nickname. Seok. It had slipped out of Sehun’s mouth in a state of delirium, and as appalled as Minseok had been, he couldn’t bring himself to stay mad at his younger brother; the nickname stuck ever since that day. 

Minseok took note of Sehun’s color and overall demeanor. Thanks to Junmyeon, Sehun looked a lot better than he had hours before. Chanyeol mentioned that Sehun practically collapsed when Junmyeon had brought him on board, and went straight to working on relieving some of the discomfort that lingered under his thick skin. Minseok felt that he could finally breathe, knowing that Sehun was better thanks to some well-deserved sleep and Junmyeon. As if it was as natural as blinking, Minseok’s eyes panned to Jongdae, whose ears looked as if Chanyeol had to just set them on fire. Minseok’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but then relaxed the moment that Jongdae had caught his eye. 

“How are the both of you feeling?” It was the only thing that Minseok could think of. He found himself feeling concerned for both of them, and he couldn’t bring himself to be selfish enough to just consider Sehun’s well-being. 

Neither of the two men jumped to be the first to answer. However, as Minseok predicted, Sehun eventually caved and hospitably answered first. 

“Thanks to Junmyeon, my head doesn’t feel like it’s going to fall off anymore,” Sehun ran a hand through his thick hair, while drumming the fingers of free hand against the table. “All-in-all, I feel like a new man.”

Minseok chuckle, “Good, I’m glad.”

He turned his attention to Jongdae and awaited an answer. They locked eyes and stayed like that for a short amount of time that seemed to last forever.

“I’m fine.”

Sehun scoffed, “You are not fine.”

Jongdae’s head shot in Sehun’s direction, and he seemed to wince at the accustation, “You don’t know anything about me.”

“It doesn’t matter...you’re human. We all feel things, and from what I can tell, you’re not fine.”

“Stop acting like—”

“You don’t sleep. I don’t think I’ve seen you eat a single thing since you’ve been here...and don’t think that I don’t hear you softly crying to yourself sometimes, which for a matter of fact was something you were just doing. So, please, continue to tell me just how  _ fine _ you are.” Sehun’s voice got progressively louder and louder as the words passed. 

Minseok knew that Sehun had a point, but he wasn’t sure if this was how he should have been going about it. 

“Sehun—”

“You think you know me so well, don’t you? You know my whole life story based on these last few days? You don’t know shit. So, why don’t you just shut your mouth, and—”

“ _ ENOUGH _ !” Minseok roared, slamming his hand down onto the table, and he could see the both of them flinch in his peripherals. He could hear the rest of the cabin stirring and waking as a response. Minseok sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Kyungsoo stood from his bed and slowly made his way over to the table, yawning, “What is going on? Is everyone alright?”

Minseok shook his head, “Don’t worry about it, Kyungsoo. Go back to sleep.”

Kyungsoo also shook his head in response, “I need to go over some stuff, I’m supposed to have a conference call with the Captain today regarding a new specialized unit of weapons that are being developed on Mercury.” 

They just had back-to-back missions, and Kyungsoo still found a way to keep himself busy, regardless of how tired he may have been. If he ever let on how tried he truly was. For a long time, this concerned Minseok, he wasn’t sure how to just tell him to relax for a lot longer than the time he would take to sleep and eat. Minseok himself was a workaholic, and couldn’t really blame Kyungsoo for being the same way...it was the reason they got along so well in the first place, and why they never butt-heads the same way that Minseok would with Junmyeon. As a man of very few words, Kyungsoo was naturally the hardest working member of their team, and never caused trouble with anyone. Minseok couldn’t have been more grateful to have someone like him. 

He watch as Kyungsoo stalked off to sit down at the super computer, and what caught Minseok’s eye was that Jongdae had been doing the same thing, his eyes lingering on that computer for a moment too long. 

Minseok’s mind wandered to the Captain. It was unusual for him to not follow up with the ACE team right after a mission, especially if the mission was a fluke from the beginning. Minseok stood from his seat and made his way to where Kyungsoo was now sitting, diligently working. Kyungsoo turned to look at Minseok as he approached, putting his work to a halt to turn to him.

“What is it, Minseok?” Kyungsoo’s brow furrowed in something that looked like concern, as his hands rested on his knees.

Minseok craned his neck to look back at where Jongdae and Sehun were eyeing each other, and when he turned back to Kyungsoo, he lowered himself in the seat directly next to him. 

“What time is your meeting with the Captain?” Minseok rummaged through one of the drawers, searching for one of the extra tablets.

“In a few hours,” Kyungsoo replied, voice suspicious, “Why?”

Minseok pulled one of the tablets from its dock, shutting the drawer after, “It’s been nearly half a day, and the Captain hasn’t even followed up with us. It’s just out of the ordinary.”

Kyungsoo could tell that Minseok’s paranoia was getting the better of him, again, “I’m sure there is a perfectly good reason...he’s one of the busiest people in this system, we can’t blame him if things come up unexpectedly.”

“We are the Captain’s first line of defense, his top tier unit...he’s always gotten updates from us right away, regardless of the circumstances. On top of it all, you have a meeting with him today, and he hasn’t said anything to us as a whole.”

A look of contemplation fell across Kyungsoo’s features, glancing back and forth between the computer and Minseok. He let out a frustrated sigh, “I don’t know, Minseok. Perhaps he’ll brief us all at the same time since I was already scheduled to have this meeting with him.”

Minseok fiddled with the tablet that rested on his lap. Prior to their Callisto mission, he had requested restricted, Class-A files and documents from headquarters on the Rogue team and their leader, who they called Alpha. He had gotten the notification regarding their arrival prior to falling asleep just hours before. He decided to deal with it later, and now later had arrived. It had taken this long for those files to surface, but it was better late than never. His curiosity regarding the Rogue team had only heightened when Junmyeon made the executive decision to bring Jongdae back with them after that failure of a mission. They lost everything, and gained nothing but a small thorn in Minseok’s side—or at least that is what he believed at the time. 

No one except Junmyeon knew about the request of the files, so when Minseok noticed the look of genuine surprise sprawl across Kyungsoo’s face, Minseok was secretly kicking himself inside. 

“How—Minseok,” Kyungsoo dragged his chair closer to him and eyed the two men behind them, making sure the coast was clear for them to speak. He lowered his voice, “How the  _ hell _ did you get access to Class-A files?”

Minseok could understand how this would have shocked a lot of people in the organization. Class-A files were extremely difficult to come by. A person had to be Diamond status or above to receive documents like these without question. Minseok was only Gold at best, which was only a couple of steps down from Diamond. These documents were essentially the Captain’s private files, which were not available for public use or viewing. You had to be a  _ somebody _ to get your hands on files like these. 

“I called in a favor,” Minseok kept it at that. 

Kyungsoo couldn’t help but be interested in the files as he and Minseok crowded around the tablet. Minseok knew there was no way he could view these files on the supercomputer where everyone, including Jongdae, could see them. The mere fact that Jongdae was merely ten feet away was risky enough. Minseok put the tablet in sleep mode and practically ripped Kyungsoo out of his seat, walking out of the main cabin. Minseok walked down the long stretch of hallway that lead them to the interrogation room. 

Minseok forced the door open and threw Kyungsoo inside, the door softly clicking shut behind them. 

Everything looked the same as it had just a few days ago when they interrogated Jongdae—or at least attempted to. Minseok and Kyungsoo dragged the chairs that had been moved to the center of the room to the table that was pushed up against the back wall. They settled themselves as the tablet was awoken from sleep mode, the attached files appearing one-by-one. Minseok wasn’t aware that the person he had contacted would have sent him so many files, ones that ranged from extremely in-depth personal profiles of the Rogue team members to blueprints and schematics for their ships and cruisers.

The two of them sat there, for what felt like days, reading and taking notes on just the in-depth personal profiles of the Rogue team. They had been extremely detailed, describing and outlining not just the present work of these young men, but their past as well: family, friends, education (if they had any), legal records. It were as if someone had been following them around their entire lives, just keeping tabs on their daily lives. 

It wasn’t until Junmyeon came through the door that Kyungsoo and Minseok had been pulled back into reality. 

“I don’t know what either of you think you’re doing,” Junmyeon folded his arms across his chest, “but the Captain is on the line for both of you.”

Minseok eyed Junmyeon, and before he could get any words out of his mouth, Junmyeon had already confirmed Minseok’s own suspicion, “Don’t worry, I’ve relocated Jongdae, once again.”

Minseok let out a sigh of relief as he locked the tablet and placed it under his arm. Knowing that Jongdae was secured somewhere on the ship allowed for Minseok to feel more at ease about getting through this meeting. The three of them stormed down the hallway, and as they made their way onto the main deck, the Captain face was stoically looking back at them.

Minseok offered a quick salute as he halted in front of the computer, Junmyeon and Kyungsoo following suit in his effort, “Sir.”

“At ease, gentlemen,” the Captain’s voice was stern, and just as he had gotten back into a state of comfort, Minseok could feel his anxiety levels rising all over again, “Now...before I get into the details that I was supposed to discuss with Kyungsoo, let’s talk about a more pressing matter.”

A cold sweat broke across Minseok’s forehead as the Captain’s words came tumbling out, “Pluto. I should have predicted that the situation could have been a trap, which it was, and it seem that the five of you predicted this as well. Or should I say,  _ six of you _ .”

The Captain’s voice was as thick and icy as the glaciers of Neptune, and Minseok could feel his heart plummet to his feet. 

“I—I’m sorry, sir?” Minseok practically forced the words from his throat.

The Captain sat up straighter in his chair, “Tell me, Minseok...how is it possible for there to be two of you running around Pluto?”

A serious lapse of judgement had been made on Minseok’s part, and one that slipped his mind when he had allowed Jongdae to use the extra uniform that had been returned to his cabinet. 

_ Shit _ .

Their uniforms had special trackers embedded in them, with no known way of removing them. The Captain had made that very clear from day one, and it was the only reason why the ACE team could never take the uniforms off. And Minseok had been the brains behind the exposure of the only lie ACE had ever kept from the remainder of the organization. 

“Sir,” Junmyeon’s voice cut through the silence, “We can explain—”

“Where is he?”

Minseok could feel his heart stop. 

“I’m sorry?” Junmyeon turned pale at the words.

“The Rogue operative that you think you’re hiding,” the secret that Minseok had been attempting to amend was out in the open, “ _ where is he _ ?”

Minseok knew that there was no way he could undo anything now.


	15. CHAPTER 15: TEAM ACE

Junmyeon had prefaced that the conference call with their Captain could take quite a bit of time, so it came across as a surprise when Jongdae came face to face with Junmyeon after spending fifteen minutes alone below deck.

Junmyeon frantically rushed down the stairs and grabbed Jongdae by the crook of his elbow, “Listen to me, and listen to me very carefully, do not speak unless you are spoken to, do you understand? We’ll do as much talking as we possibly can, but for now just stand there and don’t say anything until you’re directly asked.”

Jongdae couldn’t grasp what was going on, and felt a strong sense of panic rising in his chest as Junmyeon pulled him up the shallow steps. He was faced with the remaining four faces of the ACE team, their Captain’s face still plastered across the large computer screen. He could feel his heart pounding in his ears.

“Kim Jongdae, am I correct?” the Captain leaned further back in his chair as Jongdae found his place in front of the computer, Junmyeon directly behind him, Minseok to his immediate left. 

Jongdae didn’t offer any words, he just nodded in confirmation. He couldn’t believe that this was his current situation. ACE’s biggest secret had surfaced, and he was right under the spotlight. 

“Well,” the Captain started, “If I am being frank, I am not disappointed that a person like you has landed themselves amongst my very best men.”

Jongdae just stared at the screen for a long moment, confusion riddled his thoughts.

“However, your allegiance itself is concerning for someone like me. Your leader—Alpha—has been one of the greatest thorns in my side as of the last half decade, and it is your personal team that has given me the most grief.” 

Jongdae’s mind swirled with a mix of emotions: anger, uncertainty, panic. The list could keep on going. 

“I’m going to give you my best offer,” the Captain’s voice was almost hopeful, but Minseok knew it was all a rouse. “Lend us your skills and whatever information you can. If you cooperate and prove your usefulness, I’ll grant you and your team a chance to work under me, full immunity included. If you don’t, well, my men are trained at the highest levels in a variety of combat forms, so it would be  _ their _ job to extract the information from of you.”

“Wait,” Minseok’s voice cut through the Captain’s words, and Jongdae was afraid of what might have happened next. 

The Captain looked disgusted at Minseok’s sudden outburst, but waited for Minseok to continue.

“He has proven his usefulness already,” Minseok stated matter-of-factly. “If it wasn’t for him—I would most likely be dead right now.”

There was a long pause before Minseok spoke once more, “You are not a dense man, sir. You most likely already know that we hacked into your server to override our renewal of immunity to galactic law…”

The Captain made a noise of agreeance.

“...and that was only possible because of Operative Kim. Despite the conflict he surely feels somewhere, he has proven himself all on his own, regardless. Let me take responsibility for him.”

“And how would you be doing that exactly?” the Captain was naturally suspicious, and Jongdae couldn’t blame him. 

Even though he was quiet and kept to himself, the Captain wasn’t an idiot. He most likely already knew everything he needed to know about him. Jongdae had a reputation—a damn good one, too—especially amongst galactic-wide business corporations. It would have surprised Jongdae if that reputation  _ hadn’t _ gotten back to Minseok’s foreman.

“You trusted me to pick the right people for this team. People who could help in the betterment of our cause, our organization. You, yourself, once said that I did a great job in picking the members of this team. Let me do it again. Let me assign him a position on our team,” Minseok offered, “Let him join our ranks as an official member in training.”

Jongdae felt as if the ground beneath his feet was on the verge of shattering; he could feel Junmyeon grasp the back of Jongdae’s elbow for leverage. 

The Captain gave Minseok a contemplative look, and he didn’t say anything for a long while, and despite the fact that Jongdae was panicking for himself—for his position amongst the Rogue ranks—he couldn’t help but feel worried for Minseok. Minseok brought about a whole new level of defiance to this conversation, one that Jongdae could never imagine showing off to Alpha. There was a lingering desperation that Jongdae couldn’t pin down; a motive, a reason...he’d do anything to know.

“There would be parameters,” the Captain thought aloud.

Minseok offered a single, shallow nod, “He would be nothing more than a trainee, and would be treated as such. Let him prove his use this way, sir.”

When Minseok got down onto his knees, Jongdae watched as stun was painted across the other members’ faces. Jongdae himself almost couldn’t believe it. 

A leader who would bow before no one, finally brought to his knees.

The smugness that was sewn into the Captain’s features made the blood in Jongdae’s veins boil. He could hardly believe that he took pride in Minseok’s self-deprecating behavior; Jongdae suddenly felt that he’d be willing to do almost anything so that Minseok would drag himself from that dirt-speckled floor. 

“Fine,” the Captain’s voice broke the agonizing silence, “If you want to take responsibility for the young man, I’ll leave that to you. But if he proves to be useless, it’ll be you who will shoulder the repercussions, Minseok.”

Minseok, who was still on his knees, bowed his head in acknowledgement; Jongdae could feel his freedom slipping further and further from his grasp even though he had handed himself the key to his imprisonment. 

“Leave...all of you, there are things that Kyungsoo and I need to discuss.”

Minseok looked like he couldn’t get up from that floor fast enough, darting out of the room without dusting off his pants. Junmyeon gripped Jongdae firmly under his armpit and dragged him away, following close behind Minseok. He was vaguely aware of Sehun and Chanyeol’s presence behind them.

They all crowded into the room that Jongdae had woken up in shortly after the Callisto mission. Junmyeon had barely made it through the door with Jongdae in tow before Minseok’s knees gave way under him. Chanyeol pushed past Junmyeon and Jongdae to get to his leader. 

Junmyeon let go of Jongdae at the contact, and for whatever reason, ran off down the hallway. Jongdae looked to Sehun for some sort of explanation, any answer he might be able to provide him regarding what was going on with Minseok, but received no answer in return other than a brief disapproving look. A look that told Jongdae to keep his questions to himself. When he looked back, Chanyeol had already hoisted Minseok into the same chair that Jongdae had been strapped to. Minseok looked like he was several seconds away from passing out. He was overly pale, almost ghostly. 

Chanyeol gently guided Minseok’s head to sit flat against the back of the chair. Once he was satisfied with Minseok’s position, he rubbed his palms together before twin flames engulfed his hands all together. Jongdae jumped in surprise, nearly knocking into Junmyeon who had come back down the hall with a bowl of water that was filled to the brim. Jongdae apologized as the water had spilled over either side of the bowl. Junmyeon deigned no response as he rushed into the room; Chanyeol’s hands were now flameless, but his palms were pressed against either side of Minseok’s neck. A look of relief spilled over his features as Junmyeon rushed through the door. 

Sehun leaned against the door hinge, concern veiled the bored look that typically rested on his face. 

“This doesn’t happen too often,” Sehun seemed to say to no one in particular. The two of them peered in on Junmyeon pressing his water-filled hands against Minseok’s strained face. Minseok’s arms were trembling, breathing mildly shallow, “But when it does, no one ever knows when to expect it. Sometimes we all forget that Minseok is human too, he works so much that he might as well be a machine. There are times that he overworks himself, and no one notices the stress that is being put on his body, until he collapses like this.”

Jongdae slowly looked to where Minseok had been struggling against Chanyeol’s touch, who had been whispering something incoherent into Minseok’s ear. His eyes slid to where Junmyeon was doing what he could to keep himself composed, but Jongdae could see the struggle that lingered under that facade.

“Honestly, this is nothing entirely serious,” the younger confessed, “he’s having a panic attack.”

It was the second time in one day that Jongdae witnessed the great Kim Minseok at his most vulnerable. He knew there was no sort of comfort that he could offer him. 

He noticed that Minseok’s breathing steadied and stabilized, and before he knew it, Junmyeon was pulling his hands from Minseok’s face. The latter had fallen into a state of deep sleep. 

Sehun pushed himself deeper into the room, examining Minseok from a distance before turning to Junmyeon, “How is he?”

Junmyeon placed his hands into the bowl, the water dripping away as it had when he performed the multiple healing sessions on Jongdae. He slouched against a side table and shuttered, “He’s fine. I kept telling him to rest, but he doesn’t ever listen to me. I think this conference with the Captain just set him over the edge. It happens.”

Junmyeon spotted Jongdae in the doorway and beckoned him into the room. He found himself being pulled in Junmyeon’s direction, and when he reached the opposite side of the room, he got a closer look at the sleeping leader.

The sweat that had been dripping down the side of Minseok’s face was starting to dry against the cool air of the room, a look of strain had been glued to his features, even in sleep.

“Jongdae,” Junmyeon’s voice dragged his attention away from Minseok. “Tell me how you’re feeling.”

Jongdae was initially confused about his question-like statement until he realized that Junmyeon was referring to the proposal that Minseok had made in his stead. Jongdae gulped, “I guess his proposal is a lot more merciful than getting information being beaten out of me.”

Junmyeon nodded mindlessly, “A lot of people across the galaxy believe Minseok to be cold hearted, a tyrant, if you will. But...if you compare him to others who are above us, he looks like a saint, don’t you agree?”

Seeing Minseok in this vulnerable state awoke something deep in Jongdae, he hadn’t been able to put his finger on what that was, but he knew one thing for sure: Minseok had spared him the misery that the Captain would have wanted to bring upon him. 

“Does this mean I have to forfeit my place on the Rogue team?” They were the words that hung in the air ever since Minseok made the proposal, the unspoken question that everyone had been thinking. 

Chanyeol cleared his throat, finding a spot on Jongdae’s other side, “That will ultimately be up to you. As long as you’re with us, you’re a Rogue. To the ACE organization, you’re an ACE.”

Sehun nodded in agreeance, “If you pass this test, the Captain most likely won’t deem you an immediate threat to any of us. At that point, we can slip you out unnoticed to return you to your team. Minseok will try to shoulder the consequences on his own, but it should be a burden that all of us bear as a team. Don’t try to feel bad about it, this was our mistake to begin with.”

Jongdae was conflicted about whether or not he appreciated Sehun’s bluntness.  _ A mistake. _ There was a lot of truth in his words, but with that truth came a particular level of discomfort that settled in Jongdae’s stomach. He didn’t want to imagine what kind of consequences that the ACE team would have to face when the Captain discovered that Jongdae had been returned to the hands of their enemy. If it truly was Minseok’s ambition to train Jongdae in ACE’s tactics, returning him to Rogue also meant supplying his team with those very same tactics to use against ACE. Minseok must know that he was walking on a fine line; Jongdae could only imagine what was running through his mind when he made the proposal. 

Junmyeon sighed, “I got all of us into this mess. It should be me who shoulders the responsibility for you, but naturally, Minseok pushed me aside and added you to his long list of things to worry about. He has been this way for as long as I have known him.”

Chanyeol collected some chairs towards the middle of the room for everyone to sit. Jongdae took a seat in between Sehun and Junmyeon, while Chanyeol settled for the chair closest to Minseok’s feet.

“Prior to the ACE team’s formation,” Chanyeol began, “Minseok had been on his own...for a long time. It’s his story to tell, really. He’s told us snippets, here and there, but we all suspect that he’s never broken the surface.”

Sehun interrupted, “What we know is information you should know if you’re going to train with us, even though I hardly trust you.”

Junmyeon clasped his hands together in his lap.

“Before any of us met Minseok, he had been drafted by the Captain to do his dirty work. He worked as his private assassin for approximately five years before being assigned to draft our specialized task force. Minseok had never been pleasant to work with in the beginning. However, each of us quickly learned that’s just who he was,” Junmyeon briefly pointed to Jongdae, “You of all people should know that, in this line of work, one must learn to adapt to their circumstances.”

“It took several years for him to warm up to us,” Sehun added, “Probably two years, at most, but he had slowly started coming clean about why he treated us the way he did.”

“Minseok has always had a hard time getting close to anyone, especially us,” Chanyeol interjected. “None of us really know the full story, or rather  _ any _ of the story, but sometimes in the middle of the night when he finally manages to get to sleep, he’ll call out this name that none of us are familiar with.”

“Luhan,” Junmyeon offered.

Sehun leaned further into his chair, “We don’t know anything about him. We’ve tried searching public records for the name, but our search hasn’t produced a single lead on who he might be.”

The memory of Minseok crying in the hallway just beyond the door crept from the depths of Jongdae’s mind. He distinctly remembered Minseok almost calling out to someone.

_ “Lu—.”  _

Luhan. It made sense now that he had heard the testimony of the other ACE members. 

“We assume that the reason Minseok distances himself from everyone is because of whoever Luhan might be,” Kyungsoo’s voice rang through the room. Jongdae looked up from his hands to see the shorter member of the team standing in between the door frame, hands in his pockets. 

Chanyeol stood and pulled a chair up for Kyungsoo, who took the silent offer with no resistance. 

Jongdae took a moment to process all of the information that flooded him. Minseok had been an assassin. An  _ assassin _ . It explained his icy nature, and the lethal behavior that Jongdae faced when he first arrived aboard the 326. 

~

Jongdae was vaguely aware of the weak, spiral braided tightrope that bridged his soul to the rest of Rogue. He could feel his footing on that rope falter, but it didn’t take too long for him to regain his balance. He could see Baekhyun across the divide, and he refused to look down. 

~

One minute Minseok was pleading his case in front of the Captain, and the next he was grasping onto anything solid that would keep him grounded to this reality.

It had felt like mere minutes had passed when Minseok had lost consciousness, until Kyungsoo had informed him that he had been unconscious for nearly two days, and that they were on the fastest course to headquarters. It wasn’t exactly a home, but it was the closest thing that any of them had to one at this point in their lives. Given their newfound immunity, Sehun estimated they would arrive within a matter of hours, a day at most. 

Minseok sighed, lifting himself from the comfort of Sehun’s bed. He didn’t know who had moved him, or when, but he appreciated the gesture all the same. Three heads turned at his sudden movement, but no one said a single thing as Minseok stalked away from the rest of the team and towards the shower. 

The door shut with a soft click, and Minseok turned the shower nozzle to the hottest temperature that the 326 could manage. He let the thin, comfortable sweats that were most likely Sehun’s, considering that the pants were several inches too long for Minseok’s legs, fall to the floor. He looked down at the simple white shirt that he had been wearing, and pulled it over his head in one swift motion, adding it to the makeshift pile of clothes. 

He stepped into the scalding running water. He briefly flinched at the initial contact of hot water on bare skin, but didn’t make a move adjust the temperature. He let the hot water melt his icy veins; the water ran through the plains of his torso, all the way down to his feet. The hot water calmed the tension that had been pent up in his muscles from the last few days.

Minseok pressed his forehead against the cool tile of the shower walls, which negated the warmth he felt on his scalp. A million thoughts ran through his mind, and he did whatever he could to suppress them, but to no avail.

For whatever strange, cruel reason, Jongdae’s face flashed in Minseok’s mind. Not just that, but the faces of the other Rogue members, as well. It was nothing but a cruel reminder of the foolish arrangement he had made with the Captain. Minseok handed Jongdae the key to his freedom, only to lock him up once more. He didn’t know if he should feel embarrassed or if he should feel relieved. He knew that if Jongdae had left that day, the Captain would have sent an assassin to dispatch him anyways. Jongdae knew far too much for someone who was an outsider, even though he had hardly scratched the surface of ACE’s mission, but the Captain didn’t leave behind witnesses. Without knowing it, Jongdae had saved himself from that terrible fate. Perhaps it was the very reason why Minseok hoped that Jongdae would have followed him that day, and it was relief that he felt when Jongdae chose to go with them. 

Minseok wondered what his life would have been like if he denied the Captain on that day, all of those years ago; if he had never taken up his current leadership role, and remained a solo assassin. What kind of people would he have met? How many more people would have killed?  _ How many more people would have have lost? _ He couldn’t help but contemplate whether he would have fallen into a vicious and brutal cycle of learning to befriend someone, only to lose them soon after. Minseok couldn’t decide which lifestyle he prefered more. 

Minseok turned the shower dial, and when the water stopped running, he grabbed the towel that hung on the side of the wall and quickly dried himself off. He wrapped the towel around his waist, gathered the pile of discarded clothes and made his way back onto the main deck. 

Chanyeol and Jongdae simultaneously lifted their heads when Minseok walked through the archway, but it was only Chanyeol who had looked away. Jongdae looked as embarrassed as Minseok felt, forgetting for a brief moment that Jongdae wasn’t accustomed to the habits that ACE had become comfortable with over the years. Minseok made his way to his cabinet as quickly as he could, pulling a fresh pair of clothes from their hangers, and then slipped below deck to change. 

When Minseok reemerged, Kyungsoo had settled into the seat in between Jongdae and Chanyeol, and Sehun had remained in the pilot’s seat. Minseok walked past the three of them without a single word, finding Sehun and Junmyeon in the cockpit, and stood in between the two chairs.

Minseok lowered his voice, “Other than what you guys have told me already, what have I missed?”

Junmyeon craned his neck to look at Minseok, and he shook his head quickly, “Nothing pressing has happened. No calls from the Captain since the other day. No missions. So, don’t worry, just take some time to rest. We should be back at headquarters by the end of the day.”

Minseok sighed at the news. It wasn’t the kind of news that he wanted to hear. His mind wandered back to the tablet that contained the Class-A files that he had been studying with Kyungsoo. Minseok pat the back of Junmyeon’s chair before gliding over to the supercomputer compartment drawers, where he knew the tablet would be. He pulled open the drawer and snatched the tablet from its cable, and made his way over to the comfort of Sehun’s bed once more. Kyungsoo eyed Minseok and the tablet as he walked by, but he chose to ignore the questioning stare.

He propped himself up again the cool metal frame of the bunks and began typing in a series of security codes to unlock the tablet, to gain access to the information that was stored there. When he finally bypassed the tech’s security, Minseok found the photo of Byun Baekhyun staring back at him.

Minseok had seen him before, not just on Pluto, but on the operation card that the Captain had supplied them with. His profile had been attached, much like the remaining Rogue operatives. Minseok made a mental note of the fact that Baekhyun’s profile was much, much longer than that of the other Rogue operatives he had studied thus far. He had already made it through Zhang Yixing and Kim Jongin’s files, which were long enough, but to say that Byun Baekhyun’s file was long was an understatement. He stared at the photo for a while, studying it until he was sure every facial feature was ingrained in his memory, looking back and forth between the photo and Kim Jongdae. This man was supposed to be Jongdae’s closest friend, and Minseok felt uneasy about reading any possible personal information that Jongdae might not even be aware of, especially since he was mere feet away. 

Minseok pushed the thought from the forefront of his mind and forced himself to buckle down and delve deep into the history of Byun Baekhyun. 

And there was a lot of it. The first seven pages alone were about everything associated with the young man’s upbringing, and Minseok was quite surprised as to how much he could relate to Baekhyun’s struggles. Minseok contemplated on how two people with very similar upbringings could stray onto two very different paths. He could only imagine the internal struggle he must have faced to join a cause like Alpha’s. 

For the next several hours, Minseok repeatedly looked over Baekhyun’s file, learning as much about him as he possibly could. He hoped it would be some sort of window into understanding Kim Jongdae. He remembered Jongdae stating that he and Baekhyun had essentially been polar opposites when they first met, that they clashed more often than not. Just based on what was written there, Minseok would have thought they were similar in many ways, but he couldn’t judge a person based on words alone. 

Minseok chose to save Jongdae’s documents for the end. Not because he was avoiding any information that might shed some light onto the mysterious young man, but because he genuinely wanted to understand the atmosphere he hailed from. The people he surrounded himself with on a daily basis, their attitudes, habits, whatever information that Minseok could gleam from those profiles that might help him. He got lost in the sea of words, he didn’t even realize how much time had passed before Kyungsoo was tapping on his calf. 

Minseok tore his eyes away from the tablet and sat up; his body was stiff from sitting in the same position for the last several hours, “What is it?”

Kyungsoo sat at the edge of the bed, slouching a bit so that his head wouldn’t hit the roof of the bed frame, “We are nearly to headquarters, Chanyeol made some food for us to eat prior to our arrival. You need to eat, so put the tablet down, and join us.”

Other than Junmyeon, Kyungsoo was the only other person aboard who could be bossy, purely for the sake of bossing someone around. Minseok rolled his eyes and pushed Kyungsoo off of the bed with his foot. A small chuckle escaped Kyungsoo’s lips as he stood and made his way over to the table.

Minseok stretched out his limbs for a moment longer. When he stood, he clutched the tablet against his chest, and walked over the the computer compartment that housed the tablet’s charging station. Once it was secured, he locked it away and found a seat at the table.

He sat in between Chanyeol and Junmyeon, who were already half way through the food on their plates. He surveyed the limited spread of food that crowded the small space of the table: toasted bread and a small variety of proteins. While the food didn’t look delectable, at least it was edible. Minseok picked up a now cold piece of toast, and spread whatever jam was closest to him onto the bread. He hadn’t been too hungry to begin with, but he scarfed the food down in nearly three bites.

Minseok could hear a vague beeping come from the cockpit, and before Minseok had a chance to stand and make his way over to check for an explanation, Sehun was already out of his seat and charging ahead of him.

Junmyeon caught Minseok’s eye and watched as he shook his head, eyes fixated on Sehun walking further and further away from them, “ _ Don’t _ ...you of all people should know not to get in the way.”

There was an authoritative essence that smoothed over Junmyeon’s voice, one that Minseok noticed from time to time. Unlike most leaders, Minseok believed himself to be equal with his companions. Each of them had something unique to offer; all of their skill sets were so different from the other. Minseok knew that there were a lot of things that he couldn’t do, but Sehun could, or perhaps Chanyeol. It was the primary reason why the team had been formed in the first place—solely because the Captain knew that Minseok wouldn’t be able to handle the pirate issue on his own as a mere assassin. 

Minseok leaned back in the seat, choosing to let the others handle the busy work around him. 

He knew it was only a matter of time before they arrived to headquarters anyways, and that’s where the true nature of his work would shine.


	16. CHAPTER 16: TEAM ACE

The ACE headquarters was located just outside the gravitational field of the Martian planet, amidst a suspended space station. It mimicked the classiness and sleekness of Saturn’s Callisto station but nearly twenty times the size.

They had docked several hours ago, and Kim Jongdae couldn’t help but feel antsy sitting on the oddly warm floor of Minseok and Kyungsoo’s joint room. The room was a lot larger than he originally imagined. He would have thought that the living quarters on space stations like this would have been a lot smaller, a lot more compact. Yet, when Sehun dumped Jongdae at Minseok and Kyungsoo’s feet just thirty minutes prior, Jongdae was dumbfounded by the large scale of it.

Their room was roughly the size of their aircraft’s entire floor plan; Jongdae could imagine how cramped they all must feel whenever they are stuck aboard the 326 for long spans of time. 

What  _ really  _ took Jongdae by surprise what how night and day their room was. Literally. On Minseok’s side of the bedroom, a vast range of blacks and grays made up the entirety of his furnishings. Jongdae hadn’t ever realized just how many shades of black there could be until he was face-to-face with Minseok’s surroundings. Whereas, on Kyungsoo’s side of the room, everything was rather pristine. The various shades of white and tan were blinding in comparison to Minseok’s half of the room. Jongdae could feel a subtle ache beginning to form in his temples because of the stark contrast. There was a sofa set that sat in the middle of the room, which was a nice blend of the two color schemes. He wondered if this is what Hell and Paradise would look like if they were to meld into two like this. 

Neither of the men said a single word to him when Sehun had abandoned him here, so rather than making himself at home and taking a place on one of the couches, he had settled to sit on the floor instead. Even though he was a temporary member of ACE’s team, he felt like there was a boundary between himself and the remaining five members.

_ As long as you’re with us, you’re a Rogue. To the ACE organization, you’re an ACE _ . 

Chanyeol’s words were like a hot iron that was being pressed against his psyche. The ACE members had made it abundantly clear that they were not going to go out of their way to treat Jongdae differently from everyone else. Despite Minseok’s outlandish proposal, he was still a member of Alpha’s Rogue unit. He assumed that it would be Minseok who would take responsibility for him...it was his idea after all. If anything, he was going out of his way to pretend like Jongdae’s presence was nothing more than his own shadow on the wall. Minseok knew that he was there, but didn’t pay much attention. A shadow is just a shadow. 

Kyungsoo stalked over to where Jongdae was sitting; his rich, soothing voice filled the area around them, “The Captain most likely won’t make up a room for you, you’re more than welcome to stay here. You can take one of the couches...I promise that they are comfier than they look.”

Jongdae took the hand that Kyungsoo had offered for him to get up off of the floor as he eyed the large couch set. His eyes slid to the opposite end of the room, where Minseok was sitting at a computer, eyebrows knitted in complete focus. He wondered what Minseok truly thought of this whole situation; if Minseok felt any sort of regret for the compromise he made with the Captain, especially now that Jongdae would be staying in his own personal room. Jongdae was aware that he was nothing more than a liability for these people; they had to make sure he stayed alive, just long enough for them to prove that he wasn’t going to try to overthrow the Captain, at least. Jongdae was just another burden added to Minseok’s list that he had to shoulder, which most likely added to the stress that he attempted to hide—and hide pretty well if Jongdae was being honest with himself. 

“I wouldn’t worry about him if I were you,” Jongdae’s head twisted in Kyungsoo’s direction, “Minseok has always been the strongest member of our team, regardless of his many weaknesses.”

An imperfect man hiding behind the image of a perfect leader. 

“I know that we just arrived,” Kyungsoo scratched the back of his head prior to pushing his hands into his pockets, “but you’re going to need to change into some training gear.”

Jongdae felt puzzled, and he could imagine that he looked just as confused as he felt in the eyes of Kyungsoo, “Training gear?”

Kyungsoo nodded, “We are not at headquarters often, but whenever we are, we have to make up for the endurance which we’ve lost from our long flights. If you already couldn’t tell...there’s not much room for us to do any physical training on the 326.”

Jongdae chuckled at this, before turning serious once more, “But...I don’t have any training gear.”

“I know,” Kyungsoo replied, “Unfortunately, our gear is...special, I guess. It was designed exclusively for our team, and we only get new gear when the current ones get worn down. Unfortunately, we are not of the same stature, and you definitely won’t be able to fit into the gear of those giants down the hall.”

Jongdae could feel dread settling in his stomach. The minute the words left his mouth, Jongdae knew what Kyungsoo had inadvertently implied. He was going to have to ask Minseok for the training gear; the only other person amidst the team who was relatively the same height and size as himself. He almost got down to his knees and begged Kyungsoo to do him this one favor, he’d never ask for anything ever again. 

It’s not that he couldn’t ask Minseok for the gear, it was more so the fact that Jongdae couldn’t believe that he brought this whole situation upon himself—he was there with ACE, part of their team. 

After Minseok passed out, Jongdae spent the following days learning more about the leader and the others from the other ACE members, particularly Kyungsoo and Chanyeol. Sehun spent most of his time to himself in the cockpit of the aircraft. He had learned that their team had been together for nearly ten years. Eight to be exact. It didn’t surprise Jongdae when he was told that none of them were even remotely close when they were initially brought together. Apparently, everyone had been hostile toward one another to some degree or another. Chanyeol went into great detail about an account where he and Kyungsoo had started off a training session with some playful sparing, and before they knew it, they were beating the crap out of one another. Throwing punches left and right—Kyungsoo even dared to unsheath his throwing stars—until an angry Minseok stormed into the sparring ring, having to drag the two apart. Kyungsoo mildly protested, claiming that it didn’t happen  _ exactly  _ the way that Chanyeol described, before launching into his side of the story. Jongdae couldn’t remember a time where Rogue had ever been  _ that _ intense during a training session...or ever. He could vaguely remember slapping Jongin to his senses one night after the younger decided it was a good idea to get drunk prior to a mission—which wasn’t relatively great in importance. Or when Baekhyun thought it would be hilarious to tie Yixing to his chair in the middle of the night. Jongdae rolled his eyes at the absurd image. 

Jongdae felt like putting on the ACE gear would strip away the identity he’d been crafting for the last several years, all of the memories that had been painted across the blank canvas of his younger self, and he wasn’t ready to let that go. Or maybe it was the fact that he wasn’t ready to draft a new identity. 

He observed himself in the mirror that was across the room, looking to the torn, raggedy flannel that had never been his. He liked to think it was, but he knew it wasn’t. He had been wearing the same clothes for nearly a week now, and none of the ACE members had offered him a spare change of clothes. He knew that despite the many times he showered, the unpleasant, stale odor would linger on the clothes. 

“In the meantime, I’m going to try and find you some spare clothes. You most likely won’t get a uniform commissioned any time soon, either. For right now, see Minseok about borrowing a set of training gear. I’ll make sure there is a fresh pair of clothes waiting for you—and I’ll make sure the clothes you’re wearing now are washed.” 

Jongdae was blown away by Kyungsoo’s kindness. He nearly forgot the daunting task that stood between him and this training exercise. Kyungsoo gave Jongdae a gentle pat on the shoulder before excusing himself from the room.

And then there were two. 

Jongdae knew that if he kept putting the deed off, he might never do it. He took a deep breath and willed his immobile feet to move in Minseok’s direction.

Even from afar, Jongdae could see the concentration and contemplation that had decorated his features. The anxiety that welled up in his stomach suddenly triggered a variety of excuses he could use to avoid speaking to Minseok, once again. He looked busy, not just that...he looked as if he didn’t want to be disturbed, and Jongdae wanted to walk away from the situation with his head still attached to his body. 

He felt as if there were one-hundred pound weights shackled to his ankles; his feet had felt heavier than that day he and Baekhyun nearly lost one another. He was mere feet away now, and before Jongdae could even think of Minseok’s name, Minseok tore his eyes from the computer, twisting slightly in his seat.

“The dresser next to my bed, second drawer. There are three sets of training gear in there. Pick whichever one you want.”

And before Jongdae could respond, Minseok turned away and was glue to the screen, as if he had never even spoken to him. Jongdae’s jaw went slack as he slowly turned away in vague awe. He found himself standing in front of Minseok’s dresser drawers, and he could feel the uneasiness settle in his chest. He felt like he was about to break into something that was oddly personal. They were just clothes, Jongdae tried to convince himself, but they weren’t just clothes all the same. 

A similar sort of feeling that was associated with the flannel he was wearing sparked inside of Jongdae as he looked down at that drawer. A sort of ownership that wasn’t within his bounds. He pulled the drawer open, and like Minseok had said, there were three sets of gear, perfectly folded. They were all approximately the same number of inches away from one another, and it pleased Jongdae immensely to see the clean lines of the folds. He carefully plucked up one of the gear sets from its prescribed place in the drawer, trying not to disturb the place of the other two sets, and shut the drawer in one swift motion. 

Jongdae turned and made his way to Kyungsoo’s side of the room, opting to change behind the wall where Kyungsoo’s desk sat in order to escape Minseok’s non-prying eyes. He peeled the flannel away from his body, followed by the black tee that he wore underneath, replacing both with a crisp, soft white tee that seemed to hug his toned arms in the right places. From certain angles, Jongdae considered the possibility that he might have somewhat of a chest. He stuffed the selfish thought to the back of his mind, and shuffled out of his pants. They fell to the floor with a soft thud as he discarded them with the shirts. He pulled the pair of tight black sweats up his legs until the waistband settled comfortably around his waist and hips. He tucked in the the white shirt as much as he possibly could, pulling and lifting the edges of the shirt a bit to make himself look like less of a perfectionist. 

The last addition to ACE’s gear was one of the most intricate looking harnesses that Jongdae had ever seen, and pondered on how he was going to get the damn thing onto his body. At this point, he was more concerned about where the locking mechanisms began and ended. It crossed in all sorts of ways that Jongdae was able to make out which part of the harness was the top, what was the front, and what was the back. He had been surprised by the weight of it as his arm began to ache the longer he held it in one hand.

Jongdae studied the harness for a moment longer, unbeknownst to the fact that Minseok had gotten up at some point and moved from his side of the room and was now standing in front of him. If Jongdae didn’t have such great peripheral vision, he might never have noticed. Jongdae didn’t so much as flinch at the growing familiarity of Minseok’s presence; he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. 

Minseok loosed a mild sigh of annoyance, “Do you need help getting that on?”

Jongdae didn’t want to admit defeat in the eyes of Kim Minseok to a god damn harness, but he had already been staring and fiddling with it for a good ten minutes. He surrendered to the sigh of defeat that passed through his lips and extended the harness towards Minseok. Jongdae could feel the embarrassment rising inside of him as he watched Minseok flip the harness one-hundred and eighty degrees. He resisted the urge to check any of the mirrors in the room, which was a handful too many, to see how red his face might be. 

Minseok pulled and tugged on a several buckles and sliders, as if it were as easy as opening or closing a door. Jongdae figured that Minseok could probably loosen the straps on this harness with his eyes closed while hanging upside down. Minseok took a step closer him, positioning the harness in his hands so that it could slip over Jongdae’s head.

“Can you…” Minseok gestured for Jongdae to lower himself a bit so that he could put it on. 

Jongdae complied with the request, slightly bending his torso forward. His head was so close to Minseok’s chest, he swore that he could hear his heartbeat. 

He was vaguely aware of the sound of someone walking into the room; Minseok gently pushed Jongdae by the shoulder to signal that it was okay for him to stand up straight once more. When Jongdae’s eyes were able to get a full view of the room, he noticed Sehun and Chanyeol sitting on the twin couches. Chanyeol was shuffling through various papers that were attached to a clipboard, while Sehun sprawled the full length of his body across Minseok’s couch. 

Minseok rounded Jongdae’s body and was taken aback when he pulled on a belt-like strap that apparently had been hidden there, pushing all of the air out of Jongdae’s lungs in the process. He could hear Minseok mumble a quick, and inscencre, apology before leashing the straps that ran across the plains of his upper back. Jongdae never realized how awful his posture was until he was hoisted upward by the tension created by this harness. 

_ Rogue needs to get some of these, _ Jongdae thought to himself. 

Jongdae’s wondered if the ACE members had to help each other with this tedious process. He knew for a fact he’d never be able to get this harness on all by himself. His eyes wandered to where Sehun and Chanyeol were sitting, fully strapped down in the very same harnesses, and wondered if it were a normal task for the two of them...to seek one another out to tie down the bodily contraption. 

Jongdae noticed the temporary halt in Minseok’s disciplined hands behind him, only to realize that Minseok was now standing in front of him once again. Minseok maneuvered his fingers through the form-fitting, criss-crossed straps that spread across the toned muscles of Jongdae’s chest. He pulled and tugged at the unmovable straps until he was satisfied, and once he was, he moved to buckling the leather pads that were most likely meant to protect his shoulders. He buckled them down, and yanked on the sliders that wrapped around both of his arms. Minseok took a step back to observe and study the harness. He looked as surprised as Jongdae felt regarding the fit of the gear. 

“Take a look,” Minseok offered, pointing to one of the mirrors before stalking off toward his dresser to grab his own gear. 

Jongdae slowly walked over to the mirror and initially wasn’t sure how to feel about the tactical gear, but the longer he started and studied it, the more he grew to like it. It was well thought out and even if he couldn’t pin down a definite reason for the purpose that the harness was supposed to serve, it definitely added flare. 

A blaring ringing broke the sound barrier of the room, Jongdae turned to see Sehun lifting an ear piece to his ear, “Yeah?”

A long silence filled the room, Sehun’s eyes were roaming the room, intently listening to whatever information was being provided to him, until he eyes abruptly locked on Jongdae. 

“I understand,” Sehun responded, “We all have training soon, we’ll make our way upstairs in a few hours.”

He tore the earpiece from his ear and shoved it into one of the pockets of his pants. Minseok was in the middle of tearing his shirt off and replacing it with the standard white shirt that each of them had been wearing, “What is it?”

Jongdae tore his eyes away as Minseok fumbled with the belt of his pants, knowing what would come next. He could hear Minseok’s incessant and impatient shuffling, as Sehun sat up and turned to look at his leader, “Apparently...the Captain has put in a request for the renewal of ACE’s standard uniforms.”

Luckily, Minseok had pulled his pants around his waist at the same moment that Jongdae’s eyes darted in his direction. Minseok looked confused by Sehun’s words, “He what?”

Sehun nodded his head, “That was just the tailor now, she said that the Captain called on her to go into the uniform archives and pull from some designs that had originally been drafted for our uniforms. Either way, the Captain is making a uniform change.”

“Did she say which of our uniforms were undergoing redesign?”

Sehun leaned against a cushion and threw his arm over the back of the couch, “She briefly mentioned the possibility of a formal redesign, and two other uniform types...she never specified what kind of uniforms those would be.”

A contemplative look reached Minseok’s face as he threw the harness over his head. The harness settled across this shoulders and chest in a way that made Jongdae realize just how toned Minseok’s body actually was. Chanyeol stood from the couch in a silent offer to help Minseok with the gear. Chanyeol followed the same sort of steps that Jongdae had felt, and now that he was watching the process, he realized just how tight-fitting the harnesses were on each of them. He watched as the open space between the harness and Minseok’s chest became practically non-existent, as if the harness was now part of him. The front, horizontal strap that cut across Minseok’s abdomen revealed just how slim he was. Jongdae couldn’t help but just look at him, and watch the intimate process. 

Minseok caught Jongdae’s stare, and what shocked Jongdae the most was the fact that neither of them looked away at first. Minseok’s contemplative stare deepend as his eyes settled upon the Rogue. Jongdae wasn’t exactly sure how long he would have stayed like that if Kyungsoo hadn’t walked back through the door. Jongdae’s head turned in his general direction and he could see a vague smirk settling on Kyungsoo’s face.

“It’s a good fit,” Kyungsoo commented. “I had a feeling it would be. I was able to find you some spare clothes.”

Jongdae hadn’t even noticed the stack of clothes that Kyungsoo had been carrying when he walked in; he nodded in gratitude and took the clothes from his extended hands.

“For now, you can just place them on my bed. I’m going to take you downstairs to show you the training grounds.”

Jongdae did as he was instructed and followed Kyungsoo through the enormous room and doors; he couldn’t be sure, but he could have swore he could feel a piercing stare trail after them as they left.

~

Kyungsoo had given Jongdae a thorough tour for the layout of ACE’s training room. To say that the room was huge was an understatement, it seemed to go on for days. It was one of the most unique and intricate obstacle courses Jongdae had ever bared witness to, with a large sparring ring in the middle of the room. He wondered how their space station was even capable of housing such a large training area, considering that its use was strictly for the Minseok’s team. 

_ Just how important was their team? _

Kyungsoo had led Jongdae through the ropes of the ring, advising that they both sit down and stretch before the remainder of the team arrived. Jongdae found sitting to be a challenge now that the harness had melded with his body. He could hardly breathe as he performed a sad attempt at a stretch. 

“It takes time to get used to,” Kyungsoo stated. Jongdae gave him a puzzled look. “The harness...even though Minseok’s body has become accustomed to the straps and has stretched them out a bit, your body types aren’t one-hundred percent identical. It will take time for your body to adjust to the harness, only then will you be able to move around properly. You’ll most likely get a good ass kicking today because of the limitations set on your body.” 

Jongdae didn’t find the words comforting whatsoever, but he wasn’t shocked by them either. He figured that ACE’s training style would be a lot different from Rogue. Rogue never had access to facilities nearly as nice as this one. For the most part, they spent their time boxing with one another or practicing one form of martial arts or another. Any obstacle course that was provided to them dwindled down to whatever natural environment that had been readily available to them on whatever planet they were inhabiting at the time. Rogue may have been an important asset for Alpha, but he never went out of his way to treat them with any extra care. Everyone was equal in Alpha’s regime.

Sehun and Chanyeol came flying through the doors, Junmyeon trailing at a decent distance behind them. Chanyeol’s running start gave him enough momentum to leap over the ropes, he landed with a loud thud. Everyone, except Minseok, had gathered around where Kyungsoo and Jongdae were sitting and followed them in stretching. 

Kyungsoo looked to Junmyeon, who had settled down next to him, “Where’s Minseok? He didn’t come in with you.”

Junmyeon shrugged, “He said he’d be down in a while and to start without him.”

Several more moments passed, and Minseok still hadn’t walked through the doors, so Junmyeon took it upon himself to initiate the training. Since it was Jongdae’s first time even setting eyes on such as intricate obstacle course, Junmyeon took the extra time to explain how the course worked.

“Two people take the course at one time,” Junmyeon mentioned, “It heightens our sense of competitiveness, especially for  _ those _ two over there.”

Jongdae followed Junmyeon’s glance to where Sehun and Chanyeol were pushing each other to see who could make it to the starting line first. Jongdae could feel the corners of his mouth lift at the sight, a memory of Yixing and Baekhyun doing something similar flashed in his mind’s eye. 

“The course is designed to test two major components,” Junmyeon paused for Jongdae to prepare himself for the information intake, “Physical endurance and strategy. The course is constantly changing when we are away, so we never know what to expect. Sometimes there are instance where you’ll be physically trapped, so you’ll have to quickly and strategically attempt to get yourself out before the other person does. By no means is there any reward at the end of this course, other than the fact that you won’t be have to be the first to be thrown into the ring if you emerge from the course before your partner. The two people who have the slowest times have to duke it out in the ring first. Sometimes we like to switch it up and those with the fastest times will get to go first, it keeps everyone on their toes.”

Jongdae let the information settle in the back of his mind as he and Junmyeon got closer to where Chanyeol and Sehun were waiting.

“They will go first, so that you have good idea as to how this all works,” Kyungsoo interjected from behind. 

An audible timer began counting down from ten, and Jongdae waited in anticipation for that timer to reach zero. When it did, Chanyeol and Sehun were sent flying, as if they were bullets speeding toward some unidentifiable target. It had hardly been a second and Jongdae had already lost them. He scanned the enormous course for either of the tall men, and it took him a solid minute until he identified Sehun’s figure. He was slightly ahead of Chanyeol, climbing and maneuvering through thick, automated metal pillars. Jongdae was impressed with Sehun’s sense of flexibility and reflexes. He was dodging every small and sudden change in the course’s environment. Junmyeon left out of the fact that one’s overall intuition would be tested in a course like this as well. 

Some more time passed and eventually Sehun emerged from the course victorious. Chanyeol was a panting, sweating mess that followed behind him, plopping down flat on his back once he appeared. Jongdae couldn’t help but chuckle. 

A cold chill ran up Jongdae’s spine when a hand came down on his shoulder, “It looks like it’s your turn.”

Jongdae turned in the direction of the voice and eyed Minseok’s icy, unforgiving stare.

~

Jongdae went through the course with Kyungsoo, who ended up kicking his ass by a landslide. He finished a whole three minutes ahead of Jongdae. He couldn’t even believe it, especially since Junmyeon mentioned that the course was constantly being changed and upgraded without their knowing. 

Jongdae was sweating so much, he felt like he had just been confronted by a spontaneous downpour of rain. Kyungsoo threw him a towel to dry his face and neck with. Jongdae could see himself in the reflection of the glass door. The sweat had plastered some random strands of hair down to the sides of his forehead. He opted for running a hand through his drenched hair, tousseling it here and there to make it look a bit more put together. He used the towel to dry it the best he could, but he was never satisfied with the result. Jongdae plopped down onto the floor of the sparring ring as Minseok and Junmyeon readied themselves to go through the course.

A look of steady and stone-cold concentration fell across Minseok’s face, which was the polar opposite of the amusement that had been plastered on Junmyeon’s. The time counted down, and Jongdae waited impatiently with the other ACE members. An strong sense of anxiety settled in Jongdae’s stomach. 

Once Junmyeon and Minseok took off into the depths of the course, Jongdae could spot Minseok’s black hair in between flashes of strobing lights as a trap door sent him free-falling to the bottom floor. Jongdae noticed the frustration that riddled Minseok’s features as Junmyeon continued to race ahead on the floor he had just fallen from. Minseok broke through the barrier that prevented him from moving forward and sprinted onward in a desperate attempt to catch up to Junmyeon. 

By the end of it, Minseok didn’t coming out on top, a stark look of pride written all over Junmyeon’s face. However, the time difference between first and second place was one second; it had been a close fight at the end. The lead and his second-in-command were desperately doing whatever they could to knock the other out of the way, Jongdae was convinced an actual brawl was going to break out. 

Minseok was trying to catch his breath as he took a towel from Sehun’s extended hand. Much like Jongdae, Minseok had looked like he had taken a dunk in a lake somewhere; he ran the towel frantically across the top of his head and used his fingers to push back the hair that fell across his forehead. 

Junmyeon’s pride resonated throughout his laugh as he clapped Minseok on the back, “Alright gentlemen, you know what this means.”

A look of dread settled on Chanyeol’s face, when the realization that he might have to spar with Minseok finally hit him. 

“Jongdae, Minseok, and Chanyeol,” Sehun’s voice rang throughout the quiet ring, save for Minseok’s quiet pants, “You guys will have to flip a coin to decide which two get to go first.”

Kyungsoo stood from his spot on the ground and pulled a coin from his pocket, “Leader...you call first.”

Kyungsoo sent the coin flying, and Minseok watched as the coin remained suspended for a long second, “Heads.”

Junmyeon found a spot next to Jongdae and lowered his voice, “The way this works is one person will pick between heads and tails. Minseok called heads, and then Kyungsoo will choose either you or Chanyeol to pick between the two. Let’s say Kyungsoo picks you, and you call heads, as well. If Kyungsoo lifts his hand and the coin is facing tails, then Chanyeol and Minseok will go first. Does that make sense?”

Jongdae nodded in understanding and looked to where Kyungsoo was waiting for Junmyeon to end his explanation. 

“Jongdae…” Kyungsoo waiting for an answer, and Jongdae could feel a sudden rise of panic in his chest. 

Jongdae gulped the fear down and eyed Minseok, “Tails.”

Kyungsoo nodded in way of acknowledging his choice. He lifted the hand which covered the coin on the back of his hand. Both Jongdae and Minseok were too far away to see the result of the coin toss.

His voice rang throughout the arena, “Heads.”

And with that result, the most mischievous smirk ran across Minseok’s face as he eyed Jongdae from across the ring. Jongdae’s heart dropped as the remaining members cleared from the ring. Minseok took a moment to run the towel through his hair once more and tossed it aside when he was satisfied. 

Kyungsoo met both of the men at the center of the circular ring, “Minseok, you know how the rules work. The fight will continue until the other can no longer physically complete the challenge. Do you both accept these terms?”

Jongdae knew that he didn’t necessarily have a choice in the matter and went along with their set rules. Perhaps this would be an ass kicking he needed. Minseok nodded in Kyungsoo’s direction, a silent dismissal. 

Jongdae swallowed what was left of that subsurface panic as Kyungsoo directed each of the men to place their right hands on their opponent’s left shoulder. 

“The fight will commence in ten seconds,” Kyungsoo announced, a surprising look of amusement veiling his usual seriousness. “May the best man win.”

Jongdae could hear the countdown being. 

_ Ten. Nine. Eight… _

Minseok lifted his cat-like eyes in three steps: once from the floor, the second to Jongdae’s abdomen, and then third to his eyes. 

_ Seven… _

Jongdae held Minseok’s predatory gaze. He refused to be intimidated. 

_ Six. Five. Four… _

A lethal smile broke across Minseok’s face, it was small, but Jongdae could see the intent that lingered there.

_ Three. _

_ Two. _

“One…” Minseok finished. 

Everything had happened so fast that Jongdae had to take a second to think about how he was now laying flat on the ground. Minseok had grabbed Jongdae by the mid section of his harness and flipped him... _ hard _ . Minseok pinned Jongdae down: one knee was digging into the side of his ribcage, while the other had pinned down his right forearm. Minseok went in for the first punch, and when Minseok’s knuckles clashed with Jongdae’s jaw, Jongdae could feel a vague cold shock spread across his jawline. 

It hadn’t occurred to Jongdae that he could have used his power in this fight, so if Minseok was going to fight dirty, then Jongdae knew what he needed to do to defend himself. Jongdae poured all of the strength that he had in his slim body into his left arm and tore Minseok from his position on top of him. He flew several feet to his left, and Jongdae took the opening to get up and run across to the opposite end of the ring. Jongdae watched as Minseok stood from his discarded presence on the floor. 

Sparks travelled up and down Jongdae’s fingers, along his exposed arms. The sound of thunder roared and echoed in the ring. Before Jongdae could establish what Minseok had manifested in is hands, three shards of ice were sent flying in his direction. Jongdae dodged each of them, knowing that if any of those had made contact with their intended targets, he most likely would have lost an eye, or both. 

Jongdae shot a bolt of lightning down mere inches away from where Minseok was standing, the impact of lightning on the floor of the ring sent a pulse of electricity through the air, knocking Minseok sideways. 

Kyungsoo must have been distracted with something during the last minute of the fight, because he was suddenly shouting, “No powers! Minseok,  _ you know the rules _ !”

“How about we let Jongdae decide?” Minseok’s smile was the worst combination of taunting and arrogance. He was testing him, to see if he would back down and take the easy way out. Without powers, it would be an easier fight, a much smaller chance of injury.

But Jongdae never half-assed anything in his life, so he decided immediately, “With powers.”

The moment he uttered those words Minseok was on him, a sword of ice in his grip but this time, Jongdae was ready, launching bolts of lighting in his direction which Minseok evaded with skill and speed. Minseok ducked under a final one once he got closer and as he rose, his sword sliced through the air. Jongdae leaned back just in time, but the sharp blade caught his cheek, blood now running down his face and over the blunt of his jaw.

Minseok recovered from the dodge quickly, melting the blade and using his knee to hit Jongdae straight in his stomach. It knocked the air right out of Jongdae’s lungs but he can’t afford to lose focus for even more than a second, so he pulled a move out of Minseok’s book and grabbed Minseok’s harness and used the momentum from Minseok’s attack to flip them both onto the ground. In the last moment, Minseok had used his more muscular and stronger stature to turn them over and come out on top, this time pressing a knee into Jongdae’s windpipe.

He could hear the alarmed gasp that Junmyeon let out as Jongdae choked under him but paid it no mind, applying more pressure, “Are you done, Jongdae?”

But Jongdae just brought his free hand to curl his fingers around Minseok’s calf and let a powerful electrical current surge through him. The result was instantaneous, Minseok letting out a loud gasp and crumpling to the side. With the other no longer pressing him down, Jongdae rolled out from under the other, crawling away, clutching at his throat while all the air comes rushing back. His vision swam with black dots and coughs shook his slight frame, every inhale and exhale sending stabbing pain through his trachea. 

Shakily, he got back to his feet, looking at Minseok not far from him in a similar state of pain. He can see his handprint burned into the skin of Minseok’s calf, the fabric of the pants burning away to nothing under the heat of his palm.

“Are  _ you _ done?” Jongdae spat, voice rough and throat screaming at him not to speak anymore.

Minseok shook his head, “Not a chance.”

Then Minseok shut his eyes, a look of concentration blanketing his face and Jongdae readied himself for an attack, only one doesn’t come, instead, a dome of thick ice forms around them, closing at the top. It looked strong and Jongdae could tell that it would take  _ hours _ to pick away at it and break through.

“There’s no one to interrupt us now,” Minseok explained, clearly frazzled by that electric shock but instead of being deterred by it, he was simply excited, anticipation of how far they could take this, a thrill  _ thrummed  _ in his veins. He got a taste of Jongdae’s potential, but he wanted the whole thing, he wanted to tear away at him until he had no choice but to give his all, “Show me what you can do.”

Outside the ice dome, Junmyeon was two seconds from a mental breakdown, “Minseok,  _ what the fuck do you think you’re doing _ ?”

But either Minseok was ignoring them or he really couldn’t hear him. He was leaning towards the latter since neither Jongdae nor Minseok didn’t so much as flinch at the shrill sound of his voice.

“He’s insane!” And Kyungsoo’s eyes grew in concern as they see Jongdae roundhouse kick Minseok in the jaw only for Minseok to stab an ice dagger into the other’s arm not a moment later. Minseok really wasn’t pulling his hits, the white of Jongdae’s shirt beginning to turn alarmingly red afterwards, “They’re going to  _ kill  _ each other.”

“Chanyeol, melt that,  _ right now _ ,” Junmyeon ordered frantically and Chanyeol listened immediately, manifesting the hottest flames he could possibly summon in his palms and pressing it to the surface of the dome. A hiss resounded as the ice evaporated on contact, only for more to take its place.

“The bastard,” Chanyeol said incredulously, amping up the heat, “He’s replenishing it and adding more ice as I melt it. This will take me at least five minutes to break through.”

“We don’t have five minutes,” Junmyeon gritted out, seeing Minseok get thrown into the icy wall after Jongdae threw a bolt at him, “Do it faster!”

“I’m trying, I’m trying,” Chanyeol’s flames growing as he felt the wall rattle with the force of the impact.

Minseok fell to one knee after his shoulder blades had smacked into the cool surface, breath knocked out of him, but his reprieve was short, Jongdae’s electrically charged first coming straight for his face. He moved to the left, Jongdae’s fist hitting the wall instead. Minseok saw an opening, Jongdae’s torso wide open for a counter attack. Ice formed around his fist in the form of brass knuckles and he punched Jongdae in the side, feeling oddly satisfied at the telltale crack indicating a fractured rib.

Only, the pain was dulled by the sheer adrenaline pumping through Jongdae’s veins. Rather than slowing him down, it gave him a shot of energy, of  _ anger _ , so as he fell to the side, he kicked out his leg to send Minseok sprawling to the ground. Jongdae practically vibrated with energy, sheer anger caused sparks to emit from nearly every part of his body. Unknowingly, hot tears cut through the blood on his cheeks.

Minseok wouldn’t dare touch him now, Jongdae literally akin to a live wire so he put space between them. He needed to find a way to drain him of all his energy, to force him to expend himself until he had none left. Minseok’s mouth uttered the words before he even thought about them, “Is this all you’re made of? You’re supposed to be a member of  _ big, bad Rogue _ but honestly, I’m not impressed.”

“What is this supposed to say about  _ you _ ? You’re the one who’s still struggling even though you’re ‘ _ not impressed, _ ’” Jongdae shot back, “What’s stopping you from ending it? Maybe you just can’t.”

And Minseok’s anger wasn’t the hot, searing kind that boiled over, no, rather, it was icy, subzero temperatures that reached so low it  _ hurt _ and  _ burned _ , which was fitting considering his power. Minseok usually had a strong command over his temper, any emotion actually, a nearly perfect example of control, but something about Jongdae got under his skin, inching its way and burrowing deep inside. With Jongdae, Minseok always felt in extremes, whether it was the intense sadness over the reminder of Luhan or the anxiety of the entire situation. Now, he wanted to suffocate those feelings, tear them from his heart and burn them to nothing. 

Only he couldn’t, so he settled on attacking their source: Jongdae.

He refused to let Jongdae to storm into his life unannounced and latch onto him like a parasite. The anger consumed Minseok. Just looking at Jongdae’s face resurfaced a million feelings that Minseok had spent the greater majority of the last decade attempting to suppress. He could feel the tears that had unknowingly fallen down his face freeze over from the ice that consumed his heart. 

Minseok couldn’t give a damn anymore about the blood red electric bolts that consumed Jongdae’s body, he could feel himself flying, soaring and tearing through the hot electrical waves that had built up around them. A tidal waves of emotions had eaten him up inside, and when Minseok’s icy fists made contact with Jongdae’s face, he couldn’t hold himself back. Even if a faint, far-off voice that lingered inside of him told him to stop. He figured that he had caught Jongdae off guard when he had pounced, the lightning no longer draped Jongdae’s body as his fist connected with Jongdae’s jaw, his cheek, over...and over... _ and over _ .

“KIM MINSEOK!” a familiar voice called out. Minseok could feel the floor rattling and shaking as he raised his fist to deliver his next blow. 

A hand had caught Minseok’s wrist, and Minseok felt himself flying through the electrically charged air, knocking into something hard. He was now tens of feet away from where Jongdae was now laying, a small pool of blood gathered under his head. Junmyeon had cleared the ropes with one swift leap, heading straight for Jongdae. 

Chanyeol and Kyungsoo appeared in Minseok’s field of vision, blocking whatever was going on with Jongdae and Junmyeon. His heart still felt as cold as dry ice, anyone who dared to come near and touch it might seriously hurt themselves. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see the ice from the dome falling away around them. All of the pent up frustration had been manifested in that dome, and Minseok felt lighter now that he’d been given that release. Chanyeol grabbed Minseok by the midsection of his harness and dragged him up the wall.

Kyungsoo had a look on his face that resembled that of a grim reaper; Minseok knew right away that their fight had gone too far. They had gotten out of hand, and Minseok selfishly let that burning hot anger get the better of him. 

Kyungsoo stopped directly in front of Minseok and before he could even form the words that he wanted to say in his mind, the back of Kyungsoo’s hand had made contact with the side of Minseok’s face.

The shock on Minseok’s face was confirmed by Kyungsoo’s brief eye roll, “What the f—” 

“No,” Kyungsoo interrupted. “What the  _ fuck _ ?! What the fuck did you think that  _ all of this _ was going to accomplish?”

Kyungsoo gestured to the shattering ice dome, to the pummelled Jongdae across the ring. Minseok didn’t open his mouth to say anything, he knew better. He knew that Kyungsoo wasn’t done.

“When you do shit like this...when you act like  _ this _ ...” Kyungsoo looked like he was trying swallow whatever thought was lingering in the forefront of his mind. “Kim Minseok, what makes you think that any of us would want to follow you as our leader when you pull stunts like this?” 

Minseok had always respected Kyungsoo’s advice, anything he ever said, if he was being honest with himself. But...in this moment, it felt like Minseok had driven his own ice dagger into his frozen heart.


	17. CHAPTER 17: TEAM ACE

Several hours had passed since the incident in the downstair training grounds, and Kim Minseok had been listening to Kyungsoo’s nagging voice ever since. He had repeated over and over again about how Minseok had completely lost his grip, which he was already fully aware of, and that, as a leader of one of the most infamous groups in the galaxy, he should have been more careful with someone like Jongdae. What he really meant to say was that he should have been more careful with someone who was a Rogue. The primary source of their irritation from the last half decade. 

After sitting and listening to him for hours, Kyungsoo decided it should be Minseok’s responsibility to tend to Jongdae’s injuries. Kyungsoo believed it was the most fitting punishment, even though Kyungsoo didn’t want to think of it that way. He thought that Minseok was obligated to do this for Jongdae, since he was the reason behind his current physical state.

This is how Minseok wound up standing directly in front of Junmyeon’s bedroom door. He wasn’t exactly sure how long he had been standing there, pacing back and forth in front of that daunting door, before he finally worked up the courage to hesitantly knock on the door. He assumed it was safe for him to walk into the room after the door flew open. The first few steps into the room were hesitant ones, he knew that if Junmyeon was somewhere in the room, he would never let Jongdae live down what had happened. He would have to go through everything that he suffered through with Kyungsoo, and Minseok felt that he might explode with distress if he had to go through that whole ordeal again. Instead, the first thing he noticed was Kim Jongdae oddly positioned on Junmyeon’s bed. He looked like he was in the worst pain of his life, and guilt settled in every nook and cranny of Minseok’s body. He was fully aware of the sort of damage he had done, and even though he was fully clothed, Minseok knew where the bruises would be, where the cuts would be. 

As he got closer to the bed, Jongdae’s eyes peeled open and were immediately drawn to Minseok. He didn’t flinch, or show any sort of sign that he was afraid, he just stared at him for a very long, agonizing moment. 

Minseok cleared his throat and ran a nervous hand through his thick black hair as he sank down onto the mattress next to Jongdae, “How are you doing?”

It was the most ridiculous question in the world. Minseok knew exactly how much Jongdae was suffering right about now, but it was genuinely the only thing that he could think of to say.

“I’m fine,” Nothing more. Nothing less.

Minseok did a once over of Jongdae’s body. He realized that Junmyeon hadn’t bothered to change Jongdae into the spare clothes that Kyungsoo had managed to scrounge up for him. A sigh escaped his lips as Minseok stood, walking closer to where Jongdae’s head was settled. 

“What are you doing?” Jongdae made a poor attempt at distancing himself from Minseok, but even if he tried to get up and run, Minseok would have been able to easily overtake him. He winced when he tried to move his body further from Minseok. 

Minseok took a small step back to show Jongdae that he wouldn’t try to push his boundaries, at least for the moment, “Look I’m not going to hurt you, I’m just trying to make you more comfortable.”

There was still some fire lingering in Jongdae’s veins, enough for him to roll his eyes in the most dramatic fashion that Minseok had seen in anyone, “I don’t want your help.”

Respect or not, Minseok wasn’t going to take no for an answer, and he most certainly wasn’t going to let Kim Jongdae dictate his attempt to recuperate what had been been established between them prior to their confrontation in that ring, where Minseok lost the very foundation of the trust he was attempting to build. During those moments in the ring, Minseok hadn’t realized how livid he had been. He felt nearly ten years worth of sadness, anger, and frustration just flood out of him, and every ounce of those dark feelings had been poured into the power he had desperately trained to control. From a young age, Minseok had never believed in the manifestation of ghosts, he believe that if he couldn’t see it with his own eyes, or experience it for himself, then it must not be true. It wasn’t until Luhan’s death that Minseok negated all of those irrational thoughts, because Luhan had been haunting him every single day since he buried his body in that lake. Minseok couldn’t remember a single night where he didn’t have a nightmare about what he had allowed to happen in that room on the fateful night. Luhan had been the very reason as to why Minseok couldn’t allow himself to get close to anyone, including Jongdae. It had never been Minseok’s intention for Jongdae to get caught in the emotional crossfire of his distant past. 

Minseok looked at Jongdae and  _ really _ looked at him. He noticed the similarities in stature and size that Kyungsoo had commented on before. Minseok imagined himself laying next to Jongdae on the bed, and he figured that if he they were to lay in the same position, they would most likely be the same height, and their builds were roughly the same, as well. Jongdae’s arms and shoulders were a tad bit more slender than Minseok’s but the detail was so minute that it seemed irrelevant, and the more that Minseok thought about it, this hadn’t been the first time they had shared clothing anyways. So, the similarities shouldn’t have come off as surprising as they did. 

Minseok braved taking a single step forward closer to Jongdae, who didn’t say anything or make a move to stop him, so Minseok took this as an open opportunity for him to settle down next to him on the edge of the bed. Minseok gently slipped his hand behind the crook of Jongdae’s head, cupping his neck as he lifted him into a seated position. He was careful not to touch or put pressure on his abdomen or torso, he could only imagine how tender the skin beneath the harness must have felt, especially with a shattered rib. Keeping a hand hovering behind his back, Minseok quickly stood to take up a seat directly behind Jongdae, which allowed for easier access to the straps that were crushing the harness to his chest. He was about to unleash the strap that wrapped around Jongdae’s stomach when Minseok’s eyes were drawn to the crimson red color of the blood that soaked the back of Jongdae’s white shirt. The image of Jongdae lying in that small puddle of his own blood briefly, but vividly flashed before Minseok’s eyes; Minseok could feel the bile in his stomach rising up in his throat at the image. He mindlessly lifted his hand to touch the spot. A sudden and strong desire to rip the blood soaked shirt from Jongdae’s body had overtaken Minseok. He couldn’t stand the sight of the blood, especially since he knew it had formed there because of him. Before his fingers could make contact with the solid muscles of Jongdae’s back, he bypassed the spot and fiddled with the uppermost buckle. As Minseok loosened the grip of the harness on Jongdae’s chest, he could see Jongdae release a long, deep breath. Jongdae bucked over slightly before ricocheting back to his original sitting position, his back went stick straight from the shooting pain that ran up and down his spinal cord. 

“I’m going to call for Junmyeon, soon,” Minseok spoke plainly, “It’s my hope that he’ll be able to relieve some of the pain that you are feeling.”

“Well, maybe if you hadn’t broken one of my ribs, you wouldn’t have to inconvenience him,” Jongdae’s voice was weak, and the snark that was laced in his statement didn’t shine through the way Minseok suspected that Jongdae wanted.

Minseok could feel a mild frustration bubbling deep down inside of him, but he forced it as far down as he could. He couldn’t risk anything anymore. He needed— _ wanted _ —to be on good terms with Jongdae, a whisper fell from his lips, “ _ Jongdae _ ...I’m sorry.”

Minseok lightly dragged his hand down the arch of his spine, down to the belt-like latch that sucked in Jongdae’s stomach. He gently pulled the belt from its loop, trying his best not to tighten the belt anymore than it already was. The leather belt slid from its buckle, and when the harness fell slack around Jongdae’s body, Minseok moved himself to sit in front of Jongdae once again. 

Jongdae’s eyes were locked on Minseok, completely and utterly frozen. It was a stare that screamed for something that Minseok couldn’t put his finger on. Minseok rolled the sleeves of his shirt and reached for the top of the harness to pull over Jongdae’s head. He was dangerously close to Jongdae’s face, he could feel his heavy breathing on his adams apple. His hand cupped the back of Jongdae’s neck for support as he peeled the harness from around Jongdae’s neck. It took several careful maneuvers to get the harness over Jongdae’s head, and it took a considerable amount of time since Minseok would stop whenever Jongdae showed even the slightest sign of discomfort, but once it was off, Minseok felt like he could finally breathe. Jongdae wasn’t dying by any means, but he had felt like Jongdae’s fragile life was dropped into his anxious hands, even if it had only been for a short moment.

Jongdae moaned softly as Minseok gently placed his head against the pillow for what felt like the millionth time during their short encounter. It felt like a cruel cycle of Jongdae having to endure more and more pain as the moments passed, but Minseok knew that he would be more comfortable this way, he only had to endure the pain for a few short moments. He reached for the hem of his shirt but Jongdae’s hand came out to stop him in his tracks.

“Don’t,” Jongdae’s voice held a sense of finality and his eyes dared Minseok to go against him, “Leave it on.”

“Jongdae,” Minseok sighed heavily and took him up on his challenge, “I need to check how bad it is.”

“Leave. It. On.” Jongdae reiterates stubbornly, keeping his hand raised in the air, poised to stop Minseok in case he tried again. Minseok could tell that the expended effort caused Jongdae a great deal of pain but he pushed through.

“Jongdae, what if it’s worse than we think it is?” Minseok tried to reason, “Just let me see. It’s only going to take a few moments.”

Silence was the only response to Minseok’s words but Jongdae’s glare spoke for itself. Minseok could feel the frustration grow inside him but anger was the last thing he needed to Jongdae to witness, especially since the last time Jongdae was on the receiving end, he nearly killed him. And really, it all came back to that guilt which left a sour taste in Minseok’s mouth.

“Okay, how about you put your arm down? It’s clearly hurting you and the last thing we need is you aggravating your injuries,” Minseok offered, “I promise I won’t try to force you. I’m just going to end up hurting you more if I do that.”

“Oh, you mean like you already did?” Jongdae spat, brows furrowed in anger, “Fuck off. Your promises don’t mean anything to me anymore.”

Jongdae might as well have stabbed Minseok in the heart, the pain he felt hearing those words was potent. This was the consequence of his lapse of control: utterly disintegrating whatever small bit of trust and understanding they built up and taking so many steps back. Jongdae  _ recoiled  _ at the thought of relying on him for a simple matter such as looking over his injuries. Albeit, Minseok didn't blame him, of course, since he was the very root of said injuries. Jongdae had every right to deny any sort of contact but Minseok was determined to pick up their broken foundation and try again.

“ _ Jongdae _ ,” Minseok pleaded, taking Jongdae’s hand and cautiously lowering it back to the mattress. Jongdae didn’t fight it, whether it was because Minseok was starting to win him over or he simply realized that the pain of resisting would be too great of a price for a small payoff, Minseok didn’t care; A win was a win, no matter the reason, “Look, I don’t even know what I can do for you to forgive me. Honestly, I don’t even deserve your forgiveness. I could have actually  _ killed _ you. I have no excuse for the way I acted. I—”

“What changed?” Jongdae interrupted Minseok’s apology. At the confused look Minseok gave him, he elaborated, “When we were fighting...after I taunted you, your face… _ you _ …Even through the heat of my lighting, I could  _ feel _ the temperature drop. It was like someone had shoved a shard of ice straight through my core. I felt the cold from  _ inside _ of me and it like spread outwards instead of going outside-in. Something in you just snapped and I highly doubt my little wisecrack could affect you that much. So, what changed?”

Minseok sat there, digesting what Jongdae told him and Jongdae was completely right. Some typical taunts simply brought out by the tension and adrenaline of a sparring session would never draw such a reaction from someone as level headed as Minseok. Something  _ had _ changed and Minseok couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, “I don’t know...I just was  _ angry  _ at you but then, the anger just grew. You get me so frustrated sometimes but in that moment, especially, I felt like you were the cause of every frustration and everything that went wrong in my life. And I know you’re not…but for some reason, at that moment, that was the only possibility. The only feasible answer.”

Jongdae deemed no response and stared at Minseok for a long time, an indecipherable look on his face. Minseok nearly squirmed under the intense scrutiny but held his gaze firmly, hoping he could somehow tunnel all his remorse into it. 

Then Jongdae spoke, a look of hurt slipping through for a moment before it gets replaced by a poor attempt at a neutral face, “What if it happens again? What if next time Kyungsoo and Chanyeol aren’t there to stop you? What if you actually  _ do _ kill me?”

The last words were nothing but a harsh whisper but they might as well have been a dagger digging into his chest. They were the actual materializations of all his worst fears and Minseok’s throat clogged at the thought of Jongdae actually dying by his hands. No matter the short time he spent with him and the fact that they were on opposite sides, Minseok actually started to feel some small sort of fondness towards the other. They made up both sides of the same coin. He was not exactly sure of much else, something that was extremely common when regarding Jongdae. Yet there was one thing that was so concrete, so palpable, it might as well have been ingrained in his  _ soul _ : Minseok would never want anything bad to happen to Jongdae. He realized how close they cut it today and the thought made him sick and he would do  _ anything  _ avoid it happening again. He wouldn’t let the past repeat itself, not like this. 

Minseok tightened his grip on Jongdae’s hand in desperation, fingers curling around the other’s tightly, “I know you said my promises mean nothing to you but I am telling you I’m going to do everything to try and change that. I want you to trust me. I will prove myself to you. I’m going to prove to you that I’m a person worthy of it.  _ Please let me _ .” 

Jongdae could feel the sheer need radiating from Minseok, said need only further highlighted by the fingers pressed into his skin. Jongdae wasn’t sure if he would be able to give Minseok what he wanted. He was terrified. Terrified of the possibility of losing his life by ACE’s hands nearly became a reality today, a reality that Alpha had drilled into each of his Rogue members. Terrified that he nearly fell off the tightrope swaying precariously and that nothing, or no one, was there to catch him. Yet, despite the fact that his fear told him to run the other way, he decided to take a leap of faith…and hoped that he wasn’t met with solid ground.

“Okay,” Jongdae nodded, squeezing Minseok’s hand back and nothing prepared him for the hug he’s suddenly enveloped in. Minseok took great care not to jostle Jongdae too much as he wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close, trying to express all of the gratitude that was left in his thawing heart. Jongdae needed a moment to process the warmth around him but then he  _ melted _ into it, reciprocating the embrace as best as he could without straining himself. The intense cold he felt prior seemed to fade away, the same man who put it there now replacing it with a newfound heat.

“Thank you,” Minseok whispered into Jongdae’s shoulder, pulling him closer still until releasing him and returning to his previous position, “Can you let me see now please?”

Jongdae nodded his head once more, a tad dizzy from the overwhelming emotions currently consuming him and the events of the day. Minseok carefully hooked his fingers under the bloodied and tattered shirt and began tugging it upward, slowly revealing toned muscle and smooth skin. Minseok paused to consider how he would get Jongdae out of the shirt properly without causing an extra strain on Jongdae’s body. He tried not to focus on his deceptively smooth skin, but couldn’t help but admire the flat planes of Jongdae’s stomach. His eyes subconsciously followed a trail of dark hair until it led to the hem of Jongdae’s pants and a subtle pink dusted his cheeks as his mind wanders. He forced himself to avert his eyes, Jongdae did not let on that he had noticed anything unusual in Minseok’s behavior, and continued to remove Jongdae’s shirt. Only when a small movement caused Jongdae to groan lowly, Minseok gave up and formed a dagger in his palm to tear open the shirt in one swift movement. It was headed for the garbage anyways, and Minseok refused to keep the shirt knowing that he had stained it with Jongdae’s blood.

Jongdae’s torso now uncovered, Minseok could now see the extent of the younger’s injuries. He barely masked a flinch as he could clearly map the exact tactics he used against him. A large bruise near the center was a result of a knee to his stomach, others sporadically placed were made by fists, but the darkest one, a dark purple, which followed the curve of his rib and dissolved into hues of blue, was caused by ice and fist. The phantom feeling of those icy brass knuckles burned his hand. Guilt twisted in his gut but he carried on in his observations, eyes trailing upward to spot an ugly one around the front of his neck where he pinned him down with a knee.

His hand developed a mind of its own and reached out to apologetically caress the column of Jongdae’s throat. Upon contact, Jongdae shivered at the soothing touch of cool fingers and tilted his head back to allow for better access. It hadn’t taken long for a wave of goosebumps to disrupt the smoothness of Jongdae’s skin. Listening to the silent invitation, Minseok lightly pressed his palm and felt the nervous bob of Jongdae’s Adam’s apple beneath it. 

“Feels nice,” Jongdae sighed, eyes shut, tension bleeding from his body, “Kinda numbs it. Your hands are cold.”

“Comes with the powers,” Minseok chuckled, feeling the vibration of Jongdae’s voice, “I always run cold.”

“It’s nice,” Jongdae repeated and Minseok was content that he could help Jongdae in any way possible. This sort of relief was nothing in comparison to the kind that Junmyeon could provide him, but it pleased Minseok all the same when a small pretty grin tugged at the younger’s lips.

After a decent amount of time, Minseok moved his hand to Jongdae’s side, using extreme caution when curling it around his injury. The reaction was immediate, Jongdae letting out a groan in appreciation as the cold suffused through him, soothing the intense throb of pain. Minseok could feel the intense heat that radiated from Jongdae’s skin, and he willed his fingers to spread and splay wide enough to cover the harsh bruise that covered the side of Jongdae’s torso. Minseok sent the thinnest layer of ice over the wound to counteract the heat that was being omitted from the site of the wound. Minseok kept his gaze on Jongdae’s face, watching for any possible sign of discomfort but also taking in the dried blood and the purple covering his cheek and jaw.

Words couldn’t even express how sorry he was. He found himself cupping Jongdae’s face, partly to soothe the swollen skin, partly to soothe himself and try to convey everything through his touch. Part of him felt that even that wouldn’t be enough to convey everything he wanted to say. Jongdae’s eyes shot open at the freezing touch but leaned into it. He gazed at Minseok from under long lashes, he looked vulnerable, exhausted and so  _ open _ and Minseok couldn’t believe he almost completely lost this. He gained back a minute amount of it but, like everything involving Jongdae, he did things in extremes and he found himself wanting it all, wanting to give him everything, all the trust he could possibly give him. Anything and everything he could possibly give him. An idea sparked in his mind. One that could aid him in that goal but mostly, and most importantly, one that would somewhat ease Jongdae’s suffering.

“I have an offer to make you,” Minseok said lowly, his voice was barely a whisper, looking at Jongdae seriously and intently.

Sensing the shift in atmosphere, Jongdae’s eyebrows tilted in questioning, “What is it?”

“Rogue,” Minseok begins. At the sound of his team’s name, Jongdae tensed immediately, moving to pull away. Minseok put his other hand on his now exposed shoulder to stop him, “It’s nothing bad. I was thinking, since you joined us, you can offer them the option to join us too.”

Jongdae’s mouth opened in shock, eyes wide, unsure if he heard him correctly. His hand flew up to grip Minseok’s wrist, it almost seemed that he was trying to gauge if Minseok’s proposal was a dream or if he was still anchored to this reality,  “ _ Are you serious _ ?”

“Of course. After today...I wouldn’t joke like that,” Minseok reassured and was not prepared for the tears to well up in Jongdae’s eyes and flow onto his palm, cutting tracks into the dried blood, “Hey, hey don’t cry Jongdae.”

But Jongdae couldn’t help it, the tears fell hot and fast, the weight of the day so damn heavy on his shoulders. All the stress, the injuries, the exhaustion from such an intense fight, kept piling up on top of one another and, to top it all off, Minseok dropped this bomb on him. The damn simply burst, heavy but restricted sobs wracking his frame. Now that it started, it couldn’t stop.

Minseok wiped at the tears with his thumbs, only they’re relentless so instead, he pulled Jongdae closer to hold him in his arms, “Hey, Jongdae come on. Don’t cry. You’ll hurt yourself.”

Jongdae pressed his face into Minseok’s neck and he  _ was _ hurting himself, the pain Minseok worked so hard to numb, coming back full force. Minseok rubbed at Jongdae’s warm, bare back as Jongdae wet his skin and muffled his sobs. Jongdae’s arms wrapped around him, fingers gripping and twisting into the fabric of Minseok’s shirt. He clung to Minseok like he was his lifeline, the only thing that could possibly save him, or the very thing that could destroy him with his absence...it would be the one of the very few things in this life that could possibly end him. But the way Minseok held him was the exact same. Whatever hatred that lingered between the two seemed to dissipate into a deep of abyss. They relied on one another to pull each other to safety, to whatever shore awaited the both of them, or being swallowed by the waves that threatened to steer them off course.


	18. CHAPTER 18: TEAMS ACE & ROGUE

TEAM ACE

Minseok and Jongdae had spent an extra hour alone in the emptiness of Junmyeon’s small room before summoning the owner himself. Jongdae knew that there was only so much that Minseok could do before the pain would begin settling beyond the surface of the skin, settling deep into the muscle, into the fractured bone, and only someone like Junmyeon would be capable of easing that sort of deep pain before they could get Jongdae to a proper healer. 

Jongdae had held onto Minseok for dear life for god knows how long, it hadn’t been until Minseok began shifting every few minutes that Jongdae considered he might have grown uncomfortable. Minseok brushed Jongdae’s hair out of his face and helped him back into a laying position on the left side of the bed, pulling a variety of blankets to cover the naked upper-half of his body. Jongdae wasn’t sure when it had happened exactly, but he had grown excessively tired in the midst of Minseok’s sudden confession and Rogue proposal. Minseok hadn’t let go of Jongdae’s hand once since his desperate attempt to force Jongdae to listen to what he had to say. Jongdae vaguely gathered that Minseok would be leaving to find Junmyeon, so he could perform a session to ease the tension that had coiled on the right side of his body. Not only that, but the bruise that formed there was turning an ugly shade of might have been purple, but Minseok argued that it was starting to fade into black. 

Jongdae’s eyes were heavy. He struggled to keep them open, but he could still feel Minseok’s hand in his, anchoring him to their reality, Minseok’s thumb gently grazing his bandaged knuckles. Jongdae could have swore that the cool touch of Minseok’s fingers were going to be something like an addiction until these wounds had a chance to heal properly. The cold was almost unbearable, but against the dense and thick heat that radiated from the would sites, Minseok’s cool touch was the root of his personal solace. 

Jongdae quickly realized that Minseok’s fingers were slowly slipping from their newfound place in his hand, the bed shifted as Minseok started to stand from his spot on the edge of the bed. Jongdae latched on with what little strength he could conjure, he searched the depths of his heart for it. 

He could hear Minseok chuckle from beyond his heavy eyelids, “Don’t go.” 

“Jongdae...you need Junmyeon,” Minseok whispered matter-of-factly, briefly hovering in the spot he had been sitting in. “You’re not going to be able to rest for long if he doesn’t come to see you.”

Minseok placed his free hand across Jongdae’s cheek once again, turning Jongdae’s face just enough for him to re-examine and study the bruises that were darkening there as the minutes passed, “Junmyeon can lighten all of these for you. If you just rest for a while, he can come while you sleep. You won’t even know he was here, and if it is what you want, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Jongdae willed his eyelids to open to gaze at the man who he had been conditioned to hate, who had nearly tried to kill him just hours before, who had a sudden change of heart and was now deeply rooted in their newfound friendship. The whole situation gave way for the blossoming of a familiar feeling in Jongdae’s heart. He thought of how his friendship with Baekhyun was only able to bloom because of their near-death experience, which they faced together. Jongdae found the similarities between his friendship with Baekhyun and his developing friendship with Minseok to be laughable. Even though Jongdae had gone through this traumatic and painful experience on his own, he wouldn’t have changed how his friendship with Minseok had been established. Jongdae realized that he needed to see Minseok at his lowest to truly understand who he was at the core of his existence, and as long as he could handle that...he knew he could handle Minseok in whatever mood he might catch him in. Jongdae knew there were still so many things that he could learn about Minseok, and they both understood that it would take time...a lot of time…for them to establish and build the trust that would be required to peel back those layers to expose to skeletons that lingered there.

Jongdae loosened his grip on Minseok’s hand in recognition of defeat, a soft and small whine escaped his lips. 

“Would it make you feel better if you moved back into Kyungsoo and I’s room?” Minseok offered.

Jongdae was tempted by the offer, but he didn’t have enough physical strength to walk himself that far down the hall, even with Minseok’s help. But it seemed that Minseok could read whatever frustrated expression sprawled across Jongdae’s features. 

“Just say the words and I’ll get you there.” 

Jongdae felt his throat constrict for a short moment, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down from the tightness that lingered there. Jongdae didn’t have enough strength to form words, he just remembered slowly nodding before darkness consumed him. 

~

When Jongdae finally came too, he had been moved from the deep navy room that was Junmyeon’s and into the black and white fortress that was Minseok and Kyungsoo’s grand suite. He wasn’t entirely sure how long he had been sleeping, or how he even found his way into this room, but what he knew for certain was that his face no longer pulsed with pain. The pain in his ribcage was nothing more than a dull ache—at least for now. 

The lights had been dimmed to the point where the room was nearly pitch black, but there was enough light left for Jongdae to recognize the outlines of the furniture. Jongdae slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position, and it wasn’t until then that he realized just how large Minseok’s bed truly was. He was convinced that a group of ten people could fit there. Jongdae gazed across the room, beyond the couches, and saw Kyungsoo bundled up in his sheets.

Jongdae returned his attention to the couches, assuming that Minseok would be sitting or laying there, but it wasn’t until Jongdae felt a brief shifting to his left that he realized who had been laying there. 

Despite the vast size of his bed, Minseok somehow managed to curl up directly next to Jongdae at some point during the night. What surprised him the most was the fact that Minseok chose to sleep on top of the comforter. He knew that Minseok was practically cold blooded, and was well adapted to the cold, but even those who have assimilated to that sort of cold deserved to be warm. As much as Jongdae didn’t want to wake Minseok from the peaceful slumber that consumed him, Jongdae found himself lightly shaking his shoulder. 

Jongdae could hear Minseok inhale a deep breath as he stretched his body along the top of the thick blankets. He blinked several times, taking a long moment to realize that Jongdae had stirred him awake.

“Are—are you okay?” Minseok yawned, rubbing one of his eyes, quickly pushing himself up into a sitting position to match Jongdae’s. 

Jongdae nodded, “Lay back down, Minseok...let’s go back to sleep, but this time why don’t you get under the blankets.”

Even in the dark, Jongdae could see a fierce pink blush creep up Minseok’s cheeks; something along the lines of embarrassment had settled there. Minseok cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck, “I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, so I opted for laying outside of the blanket, just in case.”

Jongdae offered him a tired smile. He pushed Minseok to the side, but only enough for him to pull the blankets down for him to fit, “Let’s go back to sleep, okay?”

Truth be told, Jongdae had rested enough. He wasn’t as tired as he thought he would be, considering what had happened the the other day, but he could see the dark bags that nested under Minseok’s eyes. He knew that Minseok must have been exhausted; he wasn’t sure what happened in the time that he had been asleep, but whatever Minseok had been doing, Jongdae could only imagine that he expended a lot of energy. 

Minseok nodded in agreement, burying his body underneath the cool, yet warm, blankets. The minute his head hit the pillow, he had fallen into a deep sleep once again. Jongdae felt a wave of relief flooding his veins as he settled down next to the ACE leader. 

Jongdae watched as Minseok’s chest rose and fell in steady spurts, and it had taken several minutes for him to realize that his own breathing had synced with his. Every time Jongdae attempted to break their synchronicity, the two of them would unconsciously sync once more. The longer he stared at the sleeping leader, the heavier and heavier his eyelids felt. He didn’t necessarily feel tired, but perhaps sleep was one of those contagious acts, because the more and more he watched Minseok sleep in that unbothered, bliss-like state, the more he wanted to join whatever dreamscape Minseok was inhabiting. 

When Minseok had crawled under the covers, he had moved several feet from Jongdae to the left. Jongdae assumed that prior to waking him up, Minseok had somehow rolled over onto his side of the bed in his sleep, and he couldn’t be mad at him for doing so. Jongdae had vivid memories of times where he and Baekhyun would have done the same exact thing, especially after they had saved one another. 

Minseok was a side sleeper. Both of his arms were extended out in front of him, conforming to the pillowtop mattress. He hadn’t moved an inch as the hour passed by in silence. It wasn’t until the end of the hour that Minseok began fidgeting in his sleep, making small, desperate noises here and there. Jongdae opened his resting eyes for a brief moment to see the strain that had consumed Minseok’s features. Jongdae could make out the beads of sweat that started to gather along Minseok’s hairline. Without any remote sense of hesitation, Jongdae extended his arm just enough so that he could wrap his gentle fingers around Minseok’s. Minseok’s fingers were completely limp, some of his fingers had been pressed together, while others were spread out, and for the sake of comfort, Jongdae wiggled a few of his fingers in between Minseok’s spaced out fingers. His hands were cool, but what caught Jongdae by surprise was the fact that even Minseok’s hands had been sweating. Jongdae’s eyes settled on their semi-intertwined hands which rested on the mattress, the elder of the two completely oblivious to the comforting touch. He dared to tear his eyes away from their hands for just a moment, and when Jongdae’s eyes found Minseok’s face, the strain that had lingered there was gone, as if had never even been there in the first place. 

He wasn’t sure where the feeling hailed from, but Jongdae was suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to protect Minseok. Just hours prior to this very moment, they were enemies, and now...it were as if he was living in some alternative universe. In a world where it was okay for Jongdae to be by Minseok’s side, a place where he could be both an ACE and a Rogue, a place where he could just be Jongdae. 

At some point in the depths of sleep, Minseok had flexed his fingers, but when his fingers retracted back to their resting state, Jongdae could feel Minseok tugging Jongdae closer to him. It wasn’t enough effort or strength for Minseok to drag him across the mattress, by any means, but Jongdae found himself adjusting an inch closer to Minseok. It didn’t make a significant difference in the space between them, but he could have sworn that he could feel Minseok’s body release all of the tension that had been boiling under his icy skin. 

~

Several hours had passed since Minseok had been awoken by Jongdae in the middle of the night, advising him to move under the blankets. Before he even had the chance to open his eyes, he could feel something sitting in the palm of his hand. 

Minseok’s eyes tore open and once they adjusted to the morning light, he spotted the source of the pressure that had been pushing up against his palm. 

_ Jongdae _ .

At some point in the early morning, Jongdae had melded their slim fingers together. His ring finger on his right hand was the very finger that was pushed up against his palm. Minseok couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight. 

Jongdae. Minseok could feel a sigh escape his lips; he was careful not to wake Jongdae in the process. He wanted the younger to sleep as much as he possibly could before Junmyeon showed up for a follow-up session. Minseok took note of the black, wavy hair that draped across Jongdae’s forehead, a strand of hair hanging directly on top of his eye. He extended his free arm and pushed the strand of hair away, allowing his free hand to rest atop their tangled fingers for a moment too long, but only once he was satisfied with the positioning of Jongdae’s long bangs. Before Minseok had the opportunity to remove his hand, Jongdae was peeling his eyes open to meet his gaze. 

Whether it was intentional or not, Jongdae had taken a moment to stretch his arm, being careful not to overstretch on the left side of his body to keep from disrupting the wound that lingered under the black tee that Minseok had thrown over Jongdae’s body prior to moving him from Junmyeon’s room to his own. The pleased groan that Jongdae let out at the satisfying stretch made Minseok crack a smile.

“Hey,” Minseok’s voice was husky as he whispered after Jongdae had settled, “How are you feeling?”

Jongdae paused for a moment to assess how his body felt as the haze of sleep faded. The heavy throb in his side was eased slightly by Junmyeon while other, smaller bruises were completely gone. The cuts on his cheek and his arm were scabbed over. There was a muscle deep soreness that ran through his entire body, one that was undoubtedly expected after such an exhausting ordeal. The most painful were easily his throat and his side, those two a tad too severe for Junmyeon to do much more than alleviated the pain as best as he could.

“Like I got my ass kicked,” Jongdae jokes, trying to wipe of the guilty expression on Minseok’s face.

It worked slightly, enough for Minseok to crack a smile, so Jongdae considered it a win, “You put up a great fight honestly. I’m pretty damn sore. But seriously, does anything hurt too much?”

“A bit,” Jongdae admitted, subconsciously bringing his hand up to touch his neck. The pain was uncomfortable and rather annoying, flaring when he spoke too much or swallowed. In a second, Minseok’s hand was replacing his own, touching the column of Jongdae’s throat much like he did the previous night. The icy touch was so soothing, Jongdae wished he could feel it against his skin the entire day.

As it was, they had more pressing matters to attend to, particularly ones involving Rogue. So, Minseok tended to and iced Jongdae’s injuries before reluctantly getting out of bed. Kyungsoo’s bed was already empty and made perfectly, not a crease in sight. Minseok decided he would leave his bed unmade just this once, even though it irked him to do so. 

Jongdae’s arm slung over Minseok’s shoulder for support as they carefully made their way toward the kitchen. A kitchen was a privilege and luxury, one that Jongdae wasn’t used to having, at least not with Rogue. Alpha constantly had Rogue on the move, they had never settled in one place for too long, and even if they had, everyone would share a dining area. The fact that Minseok and Kyungsoo had their own kitchen in the corner of their enormous suite came off as a surprise to Jongade, especially since he hadn’t noticed it the other day. 

Minseok wasn’t entirely sure where Kyungsoo had gone this early in the morning. Either way, Minseok and Jongdae were left to fend for themselves for breakfast. Minseok scoured the fridge that had been stocked for them prior to arriving, he pulled a handful of different fruits and some bread from the shelves and placed them at the table where Jongdae had seated himself. Minseok opted to sit in the chair adjacent to Jongdae, who was reaching for the sliced pieces of bread and popping them into a toaster. 

Jongdae cleared his throat, folding his hands atop the table, “I realized that I never gave you an answer to your proposal regarding Rogue yesterday.”

Minseok had been picking at the skin of an orange when the words fell from Jongdae’s mouth. He wasn’t entirely sure how to respond. This was Jongdae’s second opportunity to reconnect with his team, and Minseok knew deep down that it’s what Jongdae wanted, probably more than anything. Minseok could recall the desperation, the pure joy that had been woven into Jongdae’s voice when he saw them for the first time on Pluto. 

“I want to see them…” Jongdae confessed. 

Minseok’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Why do I feel like there is a ‘but’ coming?”

Jongdae sighed, “I want to see them, I really do. They’re my family, my best friend is probably worried sick about me, but...if I go to them, they will be put in danger.”

“That’s why I offered for them to come here, Jongdae.”

Jongdae’s eyes slid to Minseok’s, “And you could keep them safe?”

“I told you I wouldn’t make you anymore promises. So I won’t, and can’t promise you that they’ll always be out of harm’s way, but I’ll do whatever I can to make sure they are given the protection that they need.”

Jongdae nodded in understanding at the same moment his toast had popped up from the toaster. He reached for the warm, golden pieces of bread and placed them down on a plate. The more time that Jongade had spent considering Minseok’s words, the less of an appetite he had. He worried about what his team would think. Jongdae knew that Baekhyun, of all people, would only agree to this sort of plan because it would bring him directly to him.

“Is—is there anyway that I could get a message to them?” Jongdae brushed away the crumbs that lingered on his fingers.

Minseok nodded in confirmation as he chewed away at the peeled orange, “You can use my computer to contact them. It has a video call feature that you could use. However, you would have to encrypt a code to block the call from our master call log.”

Jongdae chuckled, he knew that sort of work was something he could easily do in his sleep, and wasn’t worried about it in the slightest. He was more worried about what he was going to say to them. How he was going to explain the bruises that draped his neck like a broken necklace. He knew that Baekhyun would have a mild panic attack at the sight. 

And then there was always the possibility that they wouldn’t answer the call all together. Jongdae considered that he might need to encrypt an ID call code, one that only Rogue would be able to decipher and recognize as him. 

Jongdae suddenly didn’t want to eat anymore. His fingers itched for a keyboard, and he figured that Minseok could tell because he stood from his chair and quietly made his way over to his computer. Jongdae assumed that this was a silent invitation for him to follow.

“This is my personal computer,” Minseok stated from several feet away. “So whatever you do...please don’t give it a virus.”

Jongdae chuckled. If anything eradicating computer viruses was child’s play for him. 

Jongdae spotted himself in the mirror that hung above Minseok’s bed; he hadn’t realized how disheveled he truly looked, he almost felt annoyed at Minseok for not telling him. His eyes travelled to the black tee that had replaced the white one that Minseok had torn clean in half the previous night. The black color of the shirt did nothing to help to hide the bruises that dressed his neck; the image of Minseok pinning Jongdae down with is knee, driving it straight into his adam’s apple, on the floor of the sparring ring flashed before his eyes. Jongdae lifted a hand to the spot and flinched at the tenderness that screamed for relief.

Despite the rising inspiration that flowed through his veins, Jongdae felt sluggish in the nightwear attire. He could hear the clicking of Minseok’s computer mouse and the frantic tapping of the keyboard keys, all of which drew Jongdae’s attention away from his reflection and in the direction of the incessant noise. 

“Minseok, do you have any extra clothes that I might be able to borrow?”

Minseok finished whatever thought he had been writing and then looked across the room to where Jongdae was standing, “The clothes that Kyungsoo brought up for you yesterday are sitting on the couch if you want to wear those.”

Jongdae started walking towards the twin sofa set when Minseok added, “If they’re not to your liking, feel free to rummage through my drawers.”

The clothes were exactly where Minseok said they would be. He lifted the pile of clothes from the edge of the cushion and found a long black sleeved shirt, and a pair of black denim jeans. Jongdae was grateful that Kyungsoo had considered clothes that he was used to wearing, either that or it had been nothing but pure coincidence. Based on what information Jongdae had been able to glean regarding the ACE team, it was obvious that they were not allowed to wear whatever they wanted. So the fact that Kyungsoo was able to get these specific clothes for him came as a surprise to Jongdae.

Jongdae changed as quickly as he possibly could and when he stepped in front of the mirror once more, he still hadn’t be satisfied with how the dark clothing emphasized the dark marks against this pale skin. He padded over to Minseok’s drawers, and carefully shuffled through a sea of black shirts. It hadn’t taken him long until he settled on a black turtleneck sweater. He folded the shirt that Kyungsoo had found for him and placed it on top of the dresser for another day before making his way over to the computer that Minseok was occupying. 

Jongdae wasn’t sure it was appropriate for him to walk behind the desk, so he opted for standing behind the monitor until Minseok looked up at him. 

“It’s ready for you whenever you are.”

Jongdae gulped at the words; he was suddenly nervous, as if he was going to be making a call to a bunch of strangers. He didn’t know what to expect, he wasn’t sure how Rogue was going to react—how Baekhyun was going to react. He wasn’t prepared to see any of them. He hoped more than anything that none of them had been angry at him, for the choice he had not only made for himself, but for them as well. 

Jongdae rounded the corner of the desk at the same time that Minseok stood and took to the spot where Jongdae had been standing. The chair was still warm, which was something that Jongdae typically didn’t enjoy, but with the situation at hand, Jongdae didn’t mind it so much. He took a deep breath, desperately reaching to somewhere, anywhere, deep down inside that would allow him to switch off the nagging anxiety that gnawed at his heart. 

~

TEAM ROGUE

A whole week had almost passed since when Baekhyun, Jongin, or Yixing had even heard a peep from Kim Jongdae. They all came to the consensus that Rogue was nothing without him, and it didn’t feel right for them to call themselves Rogue now that one of them, probably one of the most important members, was missing. 

Alpha had done nothing to contact the trio of men since that day he assigned them the task to dispatch Jongdae. Whether the news had gotten back to him about Jongdae’s  _ escape _ , or not, he hadn’t let on. What had  _ not _ changed was the fact that his overly loyal henchmen were still chasing them across every inch of the solar system. Baekhyun could tell that the constant chase-and-run routine was starting to wear down on Yixing, he had hardly slept. None of them had. Not since Pluto. Except for perhaps Jongin, who was the only member of their trio who took time during the day to take short naps, but only so that he could take over whenever it seemed like Yixing was mere seconds from running out of steam. Baekhyun couldn’t pilot an aircraft, even if his life depended on it, but Jongin was the next best after Yixing, so he agreed to shoulder some of the responsibility. 

It was hard to tell what time it might be, but Baekhyun figured that it was most likely mid-morning, considering that he felt more awake than he had in comparison to the hours prior. Yixing looked as if he could fall asleep standing up, even though Jongin had taken over flying the aircraft several hours ago. Yixing had been glued to the computer ever since Jongin took over, frantically scanning whatever documents that might have been present there. Baekhyun was nearly to the ladder that would lead him below deck when Yixing yelped.

The computer’s high volume ringtone filled the cabin around them. If  it had been Baekhyun, he would have screamed as well. Baekhyun quickly made his way over to the computer to see the name of the caller ID. If it was Alpha, Baekhyun wasn’t exactly sure what to expect.

**Incoming Call from ID: MK34J21, Unknown**

**> Accept**

**> Decline**

They stared at the computer screen for a long while before Jongin had set the cruiser to roam on autopilot. The caller ID hadn’t been familiar to any of them, it definitely wasn’t anyone associated with Alpha, and all of the ACE related ID codes were strictly numeric. Even if it had been Jongdae, it would have come from a numeric source, not a scramble of letters and numbers. The three men opted to ignore the call knowing that the incessant ringing would come to an end soon enough. But they were not met with silence, and the computer screen did not reset to the documents that Yixing had been examining. Instead, Kim Jongdae’s face filled the screen. 

“I had a feeling that none of you would answer,” Jongdae’s rich voice filled the room. 

Baekhyun felt his knees give way underneath him. 

Yixing couldn’t withhold his surprise, “How—how—how did you—”

“I knew that none of you were going to answer the call. The ID would have been unrecognizable to all of you, but I put a few hints in it here and there. I wrote a code that would bypass the ending of the call if you didn’t choose to accept or decline.”

Jongin sent Yixing flying as he pushed him out of the seat, “How are you? Are they treating you well? Have they done anything to do? What happened on Pluto? Why didn’t you come back to us? Did they force you to leave with them? What—”

“Jongin, slow down,” Jongdae interrupted. “I’m fine. None of the ACE members have brought any harm to me. If anything, one of the members helped to ease that pain I was in when I got a concussion after falling through the ceiling back at Callisto.”

Yixing stalked back over to the computer screen, hauling Baekhyun from the floor. His legs felt like gelatin, and he genuinely believed that he was now incapable of forming complete sentences, maybe even words in general. Jongdae was there, right in front of him, and he couldn’t think of a single thing to say. He was angry, hurt, and ecstatic all at once. Baekhyun was vaguely aware of Yixing grabbing Jongin by the collar of his shirt before walking off with the younger.  

“Baek,” Jongdae’s voice was nearly a whisper, and Baekhyun just lost it. The tears were flowing like rivers down his cheeks as he plopped down hard into the seat. His hands were frantically wiping and yanking at this face as he attempted to compose himself the best he could.

“Is—is it true?” Baekhyun whimpered, “They haven’t done anything bad to you?”

Jongdae shook his head, “I’m fine, Baek. Tell me how you’re doing, how everyone else is doing.”

Baekhyun took a deep breath and blinked back the tears that threatened to spill over again, “I’m lost.”

Jongdae’s forehead creased with confusion, “What do you mean? Where are you guys?”

Baekhyun loosed a nervous and amused chuckle, “Not that kind of lost, Jongdae. I’m lost because you’re not here.”

Jongdae looked almost taken aback, surprised, and Baekhyun could feel something foreign twist deep down inside of him, “Baekhyun…”

“ _ Why _ ?” There was agony in his voice. Baekhyun’s neck was limp, and his head felt heavy with all of the emotions and thoughts that swarmed in his head. “Why did you leave us there that day?”

Jongdae was silent for a long moment, and Baekhyun felt like he would have snapped if Jongdae had a taken a second longer to answer, “I had to.”

It wasn’t the answer Baekhyun had been expecting at all, if there was even an answer to expect. Either way, he flinched at the impact of the words against his ear drums. 

“I had to leave you guys that day, Baekhyun,” Jongdae confessed. “We all know how Alpha is...he doesn’t leave behind anyone who might compromise anything. Anyone who might cause his plan to go awry, and as someone who was captured by someone he considers the enemy…”

Jongdae’s eyes trailed away from the screen for a brief moment before looking back to Baekhyun.

“I knew that Alpha was already aware that I had been captured. If I had come back to you, he would have killed all of you. Not just me. I couldn’t let that happen.”

All of the worry and anxiety that had welled up inside Baekhyun after all of these days ran cold, “That wasn’t your call to make.”

“Baek—”

“No…” Baekhyun rubbed his temples for a brief second, “What makes you think we would have let anything happen to you?”

Jongdae was silent on the other end, he knew that Baekhyun was right, and Baekhyun could feel the tears welling in the corners of his eyes.

“Even if you had come back with us on that day at Callisto, Alpha would have wanted to get rid of us all anyways. Jongin and I were caught, and because of that he’s had his fucking lackey’s on our tails for the last week and a half.”

Baekhyun watched as Jongdae straightened in his seat, as if the details regarding their on-the-run status had slapped him hard on the back. 

“You abandoned us, Kim Jongdae…” Baekhyun could barely get the words out without choking on them. They were the words he didn’t want to admit to himself, let alone Jongdae. He didn’t want Jongdae to know that he hadn’t had a decent wink of sleep because he had spent every hour of the day worrying about whether or not his best friend was alive, or if ACE was torturing him for any information that they could possibly gather and use against him. He didn’t want Jongdae to know that he had been living off of crackers and water because he could barely keep any food down, and it was only because Yixing was forcing them down his throat. 

Baekhyun could see the hurt gleaming in Jongdae’s eyes, and he wished he could have taken the words back the moment they were out—but it was the whole truth, and there was no taking it back now.

~

TEAM ACE

Jongdae felt like he had been backhanded across the face, and by his own best friend. Jongdae had only ever cared about one person’s opinion when he talked about himself, and that was Baekhyun. Now he wished that Baekhyun would have just kept his mouth shut. The harsh words left a subsurface sting that ached so badly that Jongdae felt like his veins had been lit on fire. His whole body was burning with shame, and he knew there was nothing he could do to properly resolve it. All he could do was extend Minseok’s offer for Rogue to join them, even if there was no guarantee that they would agree. 

Before Baekhyun could say anything more, Yixing had walked into the frame and dragged Baekhyun from the chair. Jongdae couldn’t say that he was surprised, he knew that Yixing would have been standing somewhere near the computer just in case Baekhyun said or did anything that was out of line. Apparently he had, because now Jongdae was eye to eye with his leader. He looked exhausted. They all did.

“Yixing,” Jongdae managed to croak out. 

Yixing fared a weak smile as he leaned his arms against the desk, “Don’t let what Baekhyun said get to your head, Jongdae. This is out of all of our hands.”

Jongdae could always count on Yixing to be understanding, and he couldn’t be more grateful for him, “Yixing, I want to run something by you.”

Yixing didn’t even so much as flinch at the words, almost as if he expected them.

“I figured you might,” Yixing stated, confirming Jongdae’s suspicion, “Why else would you be allowed to call so casually?”

It seemed that Jongdae wasn’t the only suspicious one. Yixing was the most intuitive person in Rogue, and Jongdae couldn’t feel surprised by his suspicion. Yixing would have known that someone would be watching over Jongdae at all hours of the day while he was with ACE, he wouldn’t have been able to just sneak off and hack a computer without someone spotting him, even if it hadn’t been an ACE team member.

Jongdae took a deep breath before launching into the details of Minseok’s proposal. He knew that Yixing would most likely be the most rational about a proposal like this, but he also knew that someone like Baekhyun would reject the proposal without a second thought, regardless of their current circumstances.

Jongdae cleared his throat, “Both of the ACE higher ups have come to an agreement on this, and they have proposed that you, Baekhyun, and Jongin come to the ACE headquarters and join their team.”

A look of contemplation had immediately settled on Yixing’s face, and it hadn’t taken him long to consider the proposal before eyeing Jongdae with a vague suspicion, “You trust them.”

It wasn’t a question, and yet it was. Either way it had taken Jongdae aback. He had only been away from Rogue for about a week and a half, which realistically wasn’t long enough for him to develop any real or genuine connection with any of the ACE team members, but he honestly believed that he felt different. After seeing ACE in action, seeing how they worked together as a team, and how they interacted with one another outside of formal work, Jongdae’s overall opinion about ACE had changed. Jongdae’s eyes travelled to Minseok for a split second, who had returned to the kitchen, which was across the room, so that Jongdae could have a little bit of privacy.

“In short, yes.” 

Yixing looked puzzled by Jongdae’s answer, “After hating them for so long, you’re quick to change your opinion about them after only being around them for a short period of time.”

While Yixing wasn’t wrong, Jongdae also knew how he felt. Yixing had always been the most intuitive of the four, but Jongdae was a close second.

“I stand by my answer,” Jongdae reaffirmed. 

Yixing nodded, “Baekhyun is not going to like this, you of all people know that he hates ACE more than anything else.”

“I know, but if it’s what you need to do to stay out of Alpha’s clutches, I would rather Baekhyun suffer and bask in his selfishness here than each of you getting caught and killed.”

Yixing didn’t speak another word, and Jongdae watched as he looked far off beyond the camera, most likely keeping a close eye on Baekhyun and Jongin.

“I can send you the coordinates and the names of the people you’ll need to talk to and ask for when you arrive.”

Yixing sighed through his nose, “I hope you know what you’re doing, Kim Jongdae.”

“I do.”

There was a slight pause before Yixing looked Jongdae dead in the eye, “Then I hope you’re right, and that you’re prepared for what sort of consequences might fall on all of us. Not just Rogue, but ACE, as well. More importantly, at the end of all of this...everyone is going to have to make a choice, especially you.”

Jongdae made a noise of annoyed understanding, “I’ll send you the information.”

“We’ll see you soon.”

“Yixing…”

Yixing’s hand hovered over the mouse before exiting out of the call, waiting for whatever Jongdae was going to say.

“Please, get some rest, and tell the others to eat.”

Yixing rolled his eyes at the bossiness in Jongdae’s voice, and then clicked out of the call. Jongdae felt like he was finally able to breath. He had seen them,  _ talked _ to them, his family. His eyes wandered to where Minseok was still sitting, and who was now looking back at him.

“So?” Minseok was fishing for information, an answer.

Jongdae stood from the chair and pushed it back into its rightful place. His bare feet were cool against the cool, hardwood flooring as he tiptoed his way over to where Minseok was gulping down another orange. He plopped down in the seat he had been inhabiting prior to the itch for work, and spread some butter on this now cold toast.

“They’re coming.”

Minseok froze at the response, as if he hadn’t expected for Rogue to actually agree, “That’s great news.”

Jongdae took a bite of the crunchy slice of bread and sighed, “I hope so.”


	19. CHAPTER 19: TEAMS ACE & ROGUE

TEAM ROGUE

They had been flying for a whole day straight. No stops. No breaks. 

Baekhyun forbid Yixing from piloting because he knew that if he had taken over the controls he would have flown the speed limit the whole way to ACE’s headquarters. So, Jongin had enthusiastically jumped at the opportunity to volunteer for the job, and Baekhyun knew that Jongin would be excited to flex his pilot muscles. 

The anxiousness that ran through Baekhyun’s body completely masked the underlying anger pointed at Yixing. Not just for agreeing to a plan that neither Baekhyun nor Jongin had any say in, but because Jongdae had told Yixing instead of him. The pettiness had settled in all of the wrong places, and Baekhyun was pouring and mixing it into the adrenaline that ran through his veins.

He knew that they would be arriving soon. After spending the greater majority of the day flying at unscenely and highly illegal speeds, and ignoring Yixing at any opportunity that was granted, Baekhyun finally chose to acknowledge his existence.

“You said that Jongdae had names of people we needed to get into contact with prior to our arrival...” Baekhyun stated sternly, “...the information, Yixing, I need it.”

“Baekhyun—”

“Tell me.”

He couldn’t help but feel the anger overtake him, as if an earthquake had shaken in his heart and now a tsunami of undesirable emotions had dragged him under the waves. 

Yixing settled for a sigh of defeat, before a dark, solid look fell upon his face, “If Jongdae wanted you to know, he would’ve told you.”

It was all Yixing needed to say to send Baekhyun over the edge. He had grabbed Yixing by the collar, pulling him as close as he could manage without either of the two feeling uncomfortable. Baekhyun gritted his teeth as white, searing-hot anger passed through his core. Jongin had been vaguely aware of the shuffling noises from behind him.

“Why—” Baekhyun choked on the word as he pressed Yixing against the wall, “why are you being like this?”

“Because it’s clear that I’m the only emotionally stable one here.”

Baekhyun flinched. Usually, he appreciated Yixing’s blunt nature, but at this moment, where everything seemed to unravel before his very eyes, Baekhyun wanted nothing more than to shove that honesty down Yixing’s throat. 

“What did you think you were going to do, Baekhyun?” Yixing raised a taunting eyebrow, “Were you just going to storm in there, grab Jongdae and walk off like everything he’s been through up until this point didn’t happen? Just so that we can keep fleeing from Alpha like we are now—”

“At least he would be with us.”

“—don’t be like this, Baekhyun. Don’t be irrational just because you’re angry.”

“My best friend has been with those...those... _ heathens _ for nearly two weeks now,” Baekhyun was seething, “who knows what they’ve been doing to him, what sort of things they’ve been telling and showing him.”

Yixing rolled his eyes as he pushed Baekhyun off of him, “He said he was fine.”

Baekhyun stumbled at the contact and knocked backwards into the unstable desk, “And you know that to be fact? What if they told him to say those things? What if this whole  _ mess _ is just a trap to lure us in?”

“And for what?!” Yixing’s throat felt strained from the sudden jump in the raising of his voice, “Alpha has a bounty on our heads, what could ACE possibly want with a trip of fugitives who work for the enemy. As Rogue members, we are just a thorn in their side.”

“I refuse to be an ACE,” the feeling that emanated from Baekhyun’s words could cut through solid ice.

“Even if Jongdae was?”

Baekhyun froze at the words, he couldn’t even believe that Yixing could make such a ludicrous suggestion, “He wouldn’t. I know him. I know him better than anyone.”

Yixing was tired of arguing. He knew that trying to convince Baekhyun of anything was like negotiation with a brick wall: immovable and uncompromising. Yixing moved to make his way towards the cockpit when Baekhyun caught his shoulder.

“ _ I _ chose to follow  _ you _ , Yixing,” Baekhyun’s stare penatrated Yixing’s soul. He didn’t know what it meant to say, but he could feel the ice freezing his blood, “We all chose to follow you. Please don’t make me regret that choice. Show me that I’m wrong.”

“If you both continue to act like this,” Jongin interjected from the controls, “we are going to fall apart anyways.”

~

Baekhyun eventually let Yixing take control of the reigns again, at least from the computer. Yixing had followed the exact instructions that Jongdae has laid out for him. He had contacted the two men, Oh Sehun and Kim Junmyeon, who they would meet directly in the landing hanger, Sehun would help them to dock their ship while Junmyeon would guide them through the very large space station. 

They were a little under ten minutes out, and Yixing could see the station from where he was sitting. Jongdae was in there, somewhere, and Yixing hoped that Jongdae knew what he was getting all of them into. Yixing had made the executive decision that Rogue as a collective unit would dissolve and assimilate into the ACE team. Much like Baekhyun, it was the last thing that he wanted to do, but if it ensured their safety then he’d swallow his pride and do what he’d have to do in order to protect his family. 

Yixing stood from the computer and made his way to the co-pilot seat, he placed a headset over his ears. He adjusted the dials on the transmitter to the frequency that Jongdae had described, even though Yixing had gotten quite familiar with their radio transmission over the years. He had learned the unique patterns that the organization ACE worked for had developed in order to keep prying ears from listening in. However, it had still been a while since Yixing had to do anything like this, and only because he left that sort of work to Jongdae after Alpha benched him from field work. To this day, Yixing could feel the agitation that had nested itself deep into his psyche. The extent of Jongdae’s skills were limitless. He was the most reliable and most knowledgeable member of their team, but he knew how Jongdae felt about being confined in one space for too long. The electricity would stir in his veins, and Yixing recalled the various conversations the two of them have had over the years about how painful it would be for Jongdae to let that lightning sit. Jongdae would become agitated, as if the lightning were like a constant itch that would cease to go away. Sometimes he would become so restless that he would stay awake for days on end, doing whatever he could to distract himself from the fact that his power had been dwelling in his blood, in his soul, for too long.

It would get to the point where Jongdae’s ticks and habits would start to concern the Rouge members, but Yixing couldn’t lie and say that his habits weren’t annoying. Yet, he knew that Jongdae couldn’t help it. He was suffering underneath that skin. 

Yixing flipped through channel after channel until he finally found the one Jongdae had described. Apparently it was a special kind of frequency used by ACE’s team, which was specifically made for them. He fiddled with the knob until it was pretty much perfectly set in place, and was met with a brief shot of white noise, and then a young man’s voice.

“Chanyeol, usually I would care if Kyungsoo asked you to jump out into the middle of space unprotected, but right now we have more pressing things to deal with. So come downstairs and help me clear the landing pad.”

Yixing and Jongin looked at one another in one part amusement, the other part confusion  as the white noise blared through their headsets.

Before Yixing could even form words, another voice came through, “Alright...alright, I’m coming.”

Yixing made a mental note of the voices, specifically categorizing the most recent voice as Chanyeol’s.

Yixing cleared his throat, “This is Zhang Yixing, I’m looking for Oh Sehun. If you have received my transmission, please respond.” 

He felt the aircraft lurch forward as Jongin sped up, racing closer and closer towards the vessel. Yixing shot a glare in his general direction as the white noise filled his ears.

“This is Sehun, state your business.”

Yixing noticed as Jongin scrunched his eyebrows together. 

“Sehun,” Chanyeol interrupted, “you’re a dumbass. He’s Rogue.”

There was a long silence on the other end until he heard a brief, “Oh.”

“Sehun, you really don’t listen to a single word Minseok says during his briefings do you?” Yixing could feel Chanyeol’s thick sarcasm between the mere miles that separated them from him.

Jongin chuckled at the comment and then set the aircraft on autopilot. He stood from the pilot’s seat, leaving the headset behind, which meant Yixing was left to communicated with the foreign ACE members.

He heard Sehun’s voice come through the headset once more, “We are getting things ready for you here. How far out are you?”

Yixing looked to the clock that sat above the controls and estimated that they would be there any moment, “I would say approximately five minutes.”

Sehun cleared his throat on the other end, “Copy that. We are opening the hangar entrance for you now.”

Yixing flipped the microphone of his headset and stood to chase after Jongin, who Yixing would need in order to get the spacecraft settled in the aircraft hanger. He knew that he could do it without Jongin, but it always seemed much easier when he had an extra pair of eyes. Yet, he wasn’t met with a clear path. Who knew how long Baekhyun had been hovering over Yixing’s shoulder, either way he had been there, nothing more than a fly on the wall.

~

TEAM ACE

Minseok was completely convinced that Jongdae was going create a rut in the hardwood flooring because he had been pacing so much. Ever since he had spoken to his team members, he had been an absolute mess. He had been pacing around the room for hours, a series of contemplative looks flooded his face now and then; in addition to a few utterances here and there about his friend Baekhyun. 

As concerned as Minseok had been for his newfound friend, he couldn’t just sit by and let the day pass without doing any work. He knew that Rogue would most likely be arriving that same day and he still had a lot of work to do in regards to the Rogue operative cards. He knew that he still had much more of Baekhyun’s chart to go through, considering that his was the longest and most extensive. 

Minseok left Jongdae to his own devices on the opposite side of the room as he returned to his spot behind the desk, pulling up Baekhyun’s file the minute he sat down. In the matter of hours that passed, Minseok learned more about Baekhyun than he ever wanted to know; there were things on that profile that finally explained as to why his had been the most detailed, and it made him sick to his stomach. Minseok forced himself to look away to where Jongdae was still anxiously pacing around the room. He was surprised that he hadn’t worn himself out yet. But it was at this point that Minseok wanted to withdraw the Rogue adoption proposal. Now that he knew the full extent of Baekhyun’s file, he genuinely believed that he might not be able to breathe the same air as Byun Baekhyun. But, for Jongdae’s sake, he would, and he would behave as he should. 

The phone on Minseok’s desk rang, startling him a bit. He didn’t hesitate to pick up the phone either; he knew who would be on the other end.

“What is it?”

“They’re here.” Junmyeon stated, “You’re one-hundred percent sure this is what you want to do.”

He knew it wasn’t a question. He was going to do this no matter what, and he would play along for as long as he physically could. 

“Just do as I said,” Minseok slammed the phone back down into the receiver and stood from his chair. 

Minseok rounded the edge of his desk and hesitantly walked over to where Jongdae had been frozen in place. He stopped several feet away, placing both of his hands behind his back as he waiting for Jongdae to say something, anything, and yet nothing came.

Minseok cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck briefly, “Rogue...they just arrived.”

Jongdae looked like he had seen a ghost, maybe something a little more rare than that, because he had turned the most pale shade of white Minseok had even come to encounter, “Where—where are they? Where are we meeting them?”

Jongdae unconsciously took a step closer to Minseok. He had felt secure in Minseok’s calm and collective aura and hoped that some of the energy would rub off on him. He was going to see his best friend, his family, for the first time since that day.

_ You abandoned us, Kim Jongdae… _

The words were like a hot, searing brand against Jongdae’s heart. They had been playing in his head over and over again for a greater majority of the day, “What am I supposed to do, Minseok?”

Minseok recalled the familiar words that fell from Jongdae’s lips, words similar enough to those that were spoken on Pluto when Jongdae had first been confronted by his team. Minseok hoped this wouldn’t become a trend, because the more Jongdae asked him, the most Minseok wanted to tell him not to do anything. For starters, he assumed that Jongdae’s relationship with the Rogue members was more secure than he had initially believed. Jongdae’s comfort level seemed shaked in Minseok’s eyes. He noticed a subtle, while drastic, change in Jongdae’s behavior ever since the first day they had spoken to him. The faithful, confident man that Jongdae was that day, was not the same man who stood before him now. Minseok couldn’t understand how that change came on so suddenly in such a short amount of time. 

Last time, Minseok had given Jongdae an option, to stay with him or go back to Rogue. This time, there were no options besides seeing them. All Minseok could really do was offer Jongdae his support and he did so. Minseok stared at the muscles that flexed in Jongdae’s back as he reached to unclench his fist and fill the space with his hand. Jongdae’s reaction was immediate, squeezing so tightly as he felt some anxiety leave him. He was now able to take a few shuddering breaths, hoping that the intensity of his hold could relay the gratitude he felt in that moment. The small smile on Minseok’s face told him he understood.

Suddenly, the sound of many pairs of feet stepping onto the floor could be heard and Minseok retracted his hand quickly, not wanting to prompt questions and assuming that Jongdae wouldn’t want Rogue to see them. As if shocked by the movement, Jongdae made a soft sound of alarm, as the grounding feeling had been torn from him, and he reached his hand backwards blindly and desperately, eyes unable to move from the door. Minseok felt a pang his heart at the sound and moved quickly to take Jongdae’s hand in his again. This time, Jongdae’s grip was even tighter, afraid that Minseok would try to let go again.

Then, the door slid open. First revealing Yixing, who, at the sight of Jongdae, grinned so hard his dimple was never more apparent. Yet Jongdae didn’t even have the opportunity to even smile back because, right behind him, was Baekhyun. Baekhyun’s expression was one of utter disbelief and he froze for a moment as if unsure that Jongdae was actually there, standing before his very eyes. Jongdae took a tentative step towards him, his body jerked back slightly as he temporarily forgot Minseok’s anchoring touch, a vulnerable look to his face and that was all it took for Baekhyun to launch himself at the other. 

The force of Baekhyun’s embrace nearly knocked Jongdae off his feet but Baekhyun steadied them, clinging so damn tight, “Jongdae,  _ Dae _ .”

Jongdae was vaguely aware of the empty space that now filled his hand, but pushed the thought in the back of his mind. Baekhyun was here. 

Baekhyun wrapped his arms around Jongdae’s neck, their sides of their faces were pressed so closely together that Jongdae could feel the wet tears that fell from Baekhyun’s eyes. Jongdae could feel the ache that ran up and down his spinal cord resurfacing, and he tried his best to suppress the possible look of discomfort that might form on his face. He knew this sort of embrace better than anyone else. Baekhyun’s embrace was desperate, and while Jongdae felt suffocated by the body crushing hug—which was doing nothing to relieve his ribs of its pain—he was just grateful that he could have this moment before everything went to hell. Jongdae knew that sooner or later, Rogue was going to find out about the bruises that lined his neck and the broken rib that had made itself known solely because of the black stretch of skin that ran along his torso. It was only a matter of time before Jongdae would have to bring himself to ask Yixing for assistance—before Minseok asked for him—and he knew the minute that Baekhyun would spot the mark, he would go on a rampage. 

“I’m sorry,” Baekhyun whispered weakly, “I didn’t mean what I said.”

Jongdae withdrew slightly to look into Baekhyun’s red, bloodshot eyes. Now that Jongdae could get a really good look at him, he could see the exhaustion that had been absorbed into every inch of his face. Just his face alone was a lot slimmer than it once had been and Jongdae could feel the painful squeeze of his heart in his chest. Jongdae stepped out of Baekhyun’s embrace to look to Yixing and Jongin who took Jongdae’s sudden withdrawal as in invitation to join them. 

Jongdae couldn’t help but wince when Jongin clapped him on the back, and it hadn’t taken long for Yixing to notice. He raised an eyebrow in one part question, one part suspicion, as he eyed both Jongdae and the ACE leader who now stood tens of feet away from them at his computer desk. Jongdae craned his neck to spot the other ACE members who had gathered around Minseok, whose eyebrows were furrowed in confusion over whatever Junmyeon had been whispering about in his ear. The abrupt noise of Yixing clearing his throat brought Jongdae back to his newfound reality. Jongdae couldn’t help but feel like he was simultaneously living his worst nightmare and his best dream all at once. He was ecstatic that Rogue had finally come, even though the circumstances were not necessarily ideal for any of them. He genuinely believed that Yixing would have tossed the offer aside, or would have at least allowed Baekhyun and Jongin to make the decision. Regardless, he knew that the only reason Baekhyun was even breathing the same air as ACE was because of him.

Jongdae invited Baekhyun and Jongin to sit on the couches, even though he knew it was beyond himself to do so, but he knew that he needed to speak to Yixing in private, hoping that Minseok and Kyungsoo wouldn’t mind. Either way, Baekhyun and Jongin sought comfort in the plush couches, as that’s where they would be staying until Junmyeon was able to set up a better sleeping arrangement for the former Rogue members. The idea of Rogue’s disbandment and their assimilation to ACE still racked Jongdae’s brain. He knew deep down they would always be Rogue. It was the very thing that brought the four of them together, but they were not longer a team of four, but a team of nine. Each of them—ACE included—knew that this was going to be a rough transition, considering the fact that the two teams lived and worked by drastically different ideologies. There was going to be a significant amount of clashing between members, and Jongdae already had a pretty good idea of who those individuals would be. Jongdae himself felt as if he were stuck in an odd predicament. He hadn’t been with ACE for too long; even so, he felt like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. 

The tightrope that tethered him to Rogue violently wobbled beneath his feet. He had always told himself to never look down, don’t let the height and all that lingered beneath his feet get the better of him. He knew that if he looked down or looked back, then he would lose his footing and balance. Yet, he dared to look back. He knew that ahead of him would be Yixing, Baekhyun, and Jongin—the three individuals who built up the strong and solid foundation for the well-being of his psyche. They were always there, across the abyss, waiting for him. Yet, when he looked back to that starting point, which he could never remember crossing, he saw the five members who collectively made up team ACE. The balancing beam that stabilized Jongdae on that tightrope suddenly wasn’t enough to keep him planted to the braided rope. He could feel the swaying dizziness that settled deeping within him, as if a sudden wave of vertigo had overtaken him. 

Jongdae took a moment to collect his thoughts and feelings, tightly shutting his eyes in the process. Yixing and Jongdae had been standing outside Minseok and Kyungsoo’s bedroom for several moments, and Jongdae pressed his aching back against the cool, slick wall. 

“What’s wrong, Jongdae?” Yixing’s voice bounced against the empty hallway walls. 

Jongdae’s eyes flung open at the question as he let out a long and deep sigh, “I need you to do something for me.”

Yixing’s eyebrows burrowed close to one another in confusion and further suspicion.

“You can’t say anything,” Jongdae pressed, “Promise me you wont.” 

“You’re starting to scare me,” Yixing took a small step back at the request. 

Jongdae forced himself to slide back up the wall. He briefly checked their surroundings to make sure that no one was walking down the hallway before lifting his shirt to reveal the blackened skin.

“ _ Holy shit _ , Jongdae!”

Jongdae hissed at the volume of Yixing’s voice, as well as the fingers that were suddenly upon his skin, “Yixing, keep your voice down—”

“What the  _ fuck _ , Jongdae...what happened?!”

Yixing’s fingers glided across the tender skin, careful not to apply too much pressure. 

“You definitely have a broken rib under there,” Yixing determined, even though it was information that Jongdae had been well aware of for a couple of days now. 

“You can fix it right?” Jongdae’s voice was hopeful, regardless of the fact that he knew the healing session would most likely cause him to pass out because of the unbearable pain. 

Yixing continued to examine the black-purple skin that took up the greater majority of Jongdae’s side, and he stayed like that for a long moment. His lack of response had heightened the anxiety that resided in Jongdae’s heart. 

Yixing made a noise in contemplation before standing up straight once more, “Yeah...I think I can fix it for you, easily, but it will be painful.”

Yixing glanced at Jongdae to gauge his reaction, which had been the same each time Yixing mentioned how painful the session would be. A whole new level of distraughtness had settled in Jongdae’s stomach. 

“Fix what?”

Baekhyun walked out of the room faster than Jongdae had been able to drop his shirt, and the look that formed in his eyes was murderous.

“What is going on, Jongdae…” Baekhyun’s voice was far away, regardless of the fact that he was standing directly in front of him, “What the  _ hell _ was that?”

Baekhyun took a large step and lifted the shirt that was covering the bruise. When the bruise came into full view, Jongdae considered the look that twisted Baekhyun’s features. He hadn’t been one-hundred percent sure if he was going to vomit or if he was going to pass out. Perhaps, both.

“It’s nothing—”

“Nothing?! Jongdae, your skin is  _ black _ ,” Baekhyun shrieked, “Don’t try to tell me that there isn’t a broken rib or two beyond that bruise.”

Jongdae felt a slight sting of irritation run up his spine, and he genuinely hoped that the feeling didn’t translate onto his features. 

“It was an accident,” Jongdae forced out. He considered it a blessing and a curse that he was able to lie with impeccable ease. Working for a team that specialized in stealth meant that one had to hone the art of lying, and Jongdae was a master. 

~

It had been several hours since Rogue had arrived and Minseok’s comfort levels were through the roof. He promised himself that he would cooperate to the best of his ability for Jongdae’s sake, but he also promised himself that he would take a step back now that Rogue was here. Minseok knew that he and Jongdae had grasped the reins of their friendship too tightly, too quickly. He knew that the guilt that lingered deep inside of himself had been the driving force for wanting to take care of the injured Rogue, as well as the severe reprimanding that had come from Kyungsoo. Yet, he also knew it was something much, much deeper than that.

He had been looking for someone that was never going to be there. The feeling that dwelled and fueled Minseok whenever he was around Jongdae was the same kind that he felt when Luhan was alive. He knew that no one could ever replace the friendship that had been established between him and Luhan all of those years ago, and he promised himself that he wouldn’t, couldn’t, get close to someone like that ever again. People across the galaxy knew of Minseok’s reputation—cold, distant, closed-off, and he wanted to keep it that way. He wasn’t going to allowed Kim Jongdae to storm in and disrupt the barrier he had put up from himself. As much as Minseok craved Jongdae’s comforting touch that granted him a state of sleep that he hadn’t reached in a long time, he knew it was a sure sign that he needed to step back. Now that Rogue was here, Minseok figured it would be the perfect opportunity to do so. 

Minseok put Junmyeon’s search for a distinguished healer to a halt once Yixing had arrived. He knew that Yixing would have been more than capable of helping Jongdae, and he would be more comfortable around him anyways. Minseok had originally opted out of observing the healing session, it severed as a good enough excuse to ponder and consider the information that had been revealed about Byun Baekhyun in his extensive file. However, it seemed like a good enough excuse until Kim Jongin had stalked in prior to the beginning of Jongdae’s session, claiming that Jongdae refused to start the session without Minseok being present. Minseok couldn’t believe the words that fell from Jongin’s mouth the minute they were out. He tried denying the request several times, claiming each time that he had other important work to do, and that Jongdae could fare without him. 

He now found himself standing in between Kyungsoo and Sehun in the middle of Junmyeon’s room, who had offered his room for the session. Jongdae had been stripped of the black turtleneck that he had borrowed from Minseok’s wardrobe, which also revealed the bruises that were splattered all across his neck. After Baekhyun and Yixing discovered the marks just outside of Minseok’s bedroom, he had received several stern questions from Yixing and Baekhyun, respectively, but Minseok had been genuinely surprised by how easily Jongdae had fed each of them several strings of lies. It was as if lying had been as natural as blinking for him, as if it had been embedded deep in his bones. 

Yixing had shoved a towel in between Jongdae’s teeth, and once the session actually started, the reason for the towels placement simultaneously made Minseok wince and feel some variation of relief. Even the thick cloth couldn’t properly muffle the screams that roared from Jongdae’s throat. Minseok could see the stark white spots that had formed on Jongdae’s knuckles as he squeezed the life out of Baekhyun’s hand, and gripped Junmyeon’s dark sheets. Beads of sweat were running down Jongdae’s forehead, the sweat reached his ears and eyes, and at one point or another, Jongdae’s sweat and tears blended together. He couldn’t tell what were tears and what was sweat. 

Yixing pulled back for a moment to allow Jongdae a chance to breathe and relax the muscle in his jaw. Baekhyun reached to temporarily pull the towel from his mouth, and Jongdae had loosed short, sporadic breaths. The frantic rising of his chest with each breath made Minseok feel restless. Minseok’s eyes travelled to the spot where the black-purple bruise had been, only to discover that it was now a light shade of yellow-green. Minseok felt a wave of relief wash over him at the sight. He was grateful that the bruise was lightened up so much, which meant the the bone beneath all of the skin and muscle must have been settling back into place nicely. Considering that the wound was an interior one, it was hard to tell, and all Minseok could do was hope that all of this meant that things were going well. 

Minseok had his fair share of wounds and broken bones over the years, but could never bring himself to seek out a healer. He had heard rumors and stories about the horrible and unsettling pain that came with the sessions. The breaking, and re-breaking, of bones, only to be melded back together. Minseok preferred the stings and aches that came with the injuries he had collected over the years. It taught him much stricter lessons than just pain tolerance—he knew that he had endured much worse before. It taught him a sense of discipline. He learned to school his facial features into neutral expressions in front of people who he considered important—any higher ups, as well as his team...especially his team. As their leader, he trained and disciplined himself to remain unphased, regardless of the heightened pain that burned in his veins, in his blood.  

When Jongdae’s breathing steadied, Baekhyun looked to Yixing in confirmation to see if it was okay for him to put the towel back in place. Yixing curtly nodded, but Jongdae moaned in protest.

“No…” Jongdae croaked out, “ _ Please _ , a little longer.”

Minseok could see the sorrow and conflict that had fallen over Yixing. He could only imagine how hard it was for Yixing to essentially torture his friend in this manner, no matter how much it was actually helping him. A healer’s gift was both a curse and a blessing, at least that’s what Minseok had always believed. 

“Jongdae,” Yixing spoke softly, “the quicker we get this done, the less pain you’ll have to go through.”

Minseok couldn’t even recall the last time Jongdae had opened his eyes, they had already been shut when he entered the room nearly half an hour before, and as time passed, the more labored Jongdae’s breathing had become. Not just that, but his eyes had become heavier and heavier. The pain flooded all of his features. The muscles in his arms flexed in ways that Minseok had never considered humanly possible before. 

Jongdae looked exhausted, and  _ sounded _ exhausted each time he was able to gather enough energy to speak.

“M—”

Yixing furrowed his eyebrows, “What was that, Jongdae?”

Jongdae gulped down a deep breath before exhaling, “Minseok…”

Minseok noticed the sheer dumbfoundedness that had spread across Baekhyun’s face as Minseok’s name came through Jongdae’s lips. Minseok tensed in the spot where he was standing, he planted his feet firmly to the ground in an attempt to anchor himself. For all Jongdae knew, Minseok could have been there, or perhaps he wasn’t. He hadn’t said a single word since he entered the room, and no one had made a move to acknowledge his presence when he walked in with Jongin earlier. 

All eyes had turned on Minseok as he stared back, silently begging them not to make any noise of acknowledgement. It was supposed to be Baekhyun, it had to be. Minseok could feel himself instinctively moving from the room, his eyes locked on Jongdae, making sure that those pretty eyes of his didn’t fling open at the sudden clicking on Minseok’s shoes against hardwood flooring. He dared to look away for half a second until an unexpected voice rang throughout the room.

“Kim Minseok.”

The room was so silent that you could probably hear a pin drop except for the slight echo of Baekhyun’s voice that ricocheted off of Junmyeon’s pale, bare walls. Minseok could have sworn that the iciness that coated his name froze the blood in his veins.


	20. CHAPTER 20: TEAM EX'ACT

TEAM EX’ACT

Several hours had passed since Baekhyun forced Minseok to stay for the duration of Jongdae’s healing session. Baekhyun and Minseok sat on their own respective sides of the bed, pinning Jongdae down to the best of their ability to keep him from flailing and kicking Yixing in the face. At one point, towards the end of the session, Jongdae actually ended up passing out from all of the strain that he had been putting on his body. His grip on Minseok and Baekhyun’s hands had fallen limp, and the look of exasperation fell from Yixing’s face. It had been a much smoother and quicker process once all of that happened. 

Shortly following the session the nine young men had crowded in Minseok and Kyungsoo’s private bedroom. It had been Sehun and Yixing’s job to move Jongdae’s limp body from Junmyeon’s room, but not before receiving much protest from Baekhyun. Minseok honored the promise he made to himself and kept his distance from Jongdae, and was now sprawled across one side of Kyungsoo’s bed. It was far past a decent hour to fall asleep, and Minseok could feel the frustration boiling beneath his skin when sleep didn’t claim him. Either way none of them had been able to sleep, or rather everyone felt too anxious to sleep. Even if they had been able to fall asleep, they all would have been rotating watch times in order to look over Jongdae.

Minseok and Kyungsoo had been propped up by the mountain of pillows that lined Kyungsoo’s headboard. Chanyeol and Sehun sat at the foot of the bed, browsing several variations of a design for a new aircraft that the Captain had planned to commission. Naturally, Chanyeol would be chosen to construct the ship, and was the reason as to why Chanyeol chucked the plans in Sehun’s face nearly an hour ago. They scoured the plans for any flaws or imperfections in the design, discussing the probable errors and safety hazards that could be present. Watching the two interact in this way impressed Minseok immensely. It wasn’t often that Chanyeol and Sehun were able to flex their true potential. There was only so much beyond engineering that Chanyeol could do, and only so much that Sehun could do beyond piloting. When Chanyeol had been drafted onto the team, his primary role had been to construct and design the 326, which has done the organization wonders ever since it was brought to life. But, for a long time, that had been his only purpose, until Junmyeon decided it might have been useful for them to teach Chanyeol how to protect not only himself but the other members, as well. 

Junmyeon had found a place on the set of twin couches with Baekhyun, Yixing, and Jongin, chatting about god knows what. He imagined and hoped that Junmyeon was giving them a brief rundown about how headquarters operated, and how it differed from other ACE output stations. There were certain proprietary rules that everyone had to follow while residing at headquarters, which was different from everywhere else, but only because this was where the Captain’s official office was located. Even though the Rogue members had dissolved into and meshed with the foundation of ACE’s team, they still had plenty to learn. 

Minseok half-groaned, half-panicked at the harsh sound of the phone ringing from his desk. He couldn’t even get halfway off of the bed before Junmyeon had pulled the phone from the receiver. 

“This is Kim Junmyeon,” his voice was low enough to keep from disturbing Jongdae, who was still sound asleep on Minseok’s bed. The rest of the Rogue members continued to whisper among themselves. 

Whoever had been on the other end of that phone did not have much to say, considering that Junmyeon hadn’t deigned a response, he just set the phone back down after briefly nodding. He walked quickly from behind the desk and stopped at the foot of the bed.

“The Captain has requested your presence in his office.”

All ongoing conversations ceased when the words left Junmyeon’s lips. A strong sense of dread and anxiety was building in Minseok’s stomach as he quickly marched over to his cabinets. He did nothing to keep quiet as he rummaged for the uniform. He also didn’t care who saw him frantically strip away the comfortable, yet casual, pants and shirt that he had been wearing, quickly exchanging it for the rough, thick formal attire.

“Shoes…” Minseok whispered to himself as he scanned the floor, “Shoes... _ shoes _ .”

Minseok wasn’t sure when Kyungsoo had gotten up from the bed, but he was now standing before Minseok with polished shoes in hand.

“Thank you,” Minseok managed to get out before sprinting through the doors, stopping every few seconds to yank the shoes on, and to the nearest elevator.

~

Minseok had stopped panting by the time he was standing in front of the Captain’s heavily guarded office doors. 

“Rank, name, and business.” This door has been guarded by the very same same people ever since Minseok had earned rank. The guards knew exactly who Minseok was and what kind of business he had with the Captain, but he contained the urge to roll his eyes.

“Colonel Kim Minseok, and the Captain requested my presence here. He didn’t expand on any further reason as to why.” 

The guards offered a quick and sharp salute before the doors slid open; Minseok briefly returned their sign of respect as he walked through the door. 

He stopped at a considerable distance away from the Captain’s desk, who was engulfed in whatever had been mulling over on the computer screen.

“Sit down, Minseok,” the Captain ordered. He didn’t sound upset, but it also didn’t sound like he was in a great mood either. 

Minseok did exactly as he was instructed and waited. 

And waited.

And waited.

Minseok was convinced that a solid five or ten minutes had passed before the Captain pushed the keyboard back and faced him.

“I head that Rogue arrived earlier today.”

Minseok nodded, “Yes, sir. On time and according to schedule.”

The Captain nodded, satisfied with the news, as he leaned back in his chair, “And do you suspect they will try to take the hostage and leave?”

Minseok had considered the possibility dozens and dozens of times prior to yielding the offer once more to Jongdae, and if he was being honest with himself, he wouldn’t be surprised if the Rogue members attempted the escape. He knew how they all felt about being here, even if they hadn’t outright said anything, “Kim Jongdae is here on his own volition, and if he remains, the rest of them will.”

The Captain raised a suspicious eyebrow in Minseok’s general direction, “And what makes you so confident that they will?”

“Over the last several weeks, I have tried my best to learn whatever I possibly could about each of these young men, and they are a very tight-knit group of individuals. They are all overly attached to Kim Jongdae, and the only reason they are here in the first place is because of him. They wouldn’t leave without him, even if they wanted to.”

Something short of a smirk started to grow on the Captain’s face, “So, as long as Kim Jongdae stays, we get Alpha’s whole team?”

“That is correct, sir.”

The Captain’s smirk grew into a grin, “It’s up to you, Kim Minseok, to make sure that we secure Kim Jongdae...that we completely convert him to our side. I will eventually have need for those four, but for now, the nine of you will be one cohesive team.”

Minseok could feel the confusion settle in his facial features and a deep inner conflict swirling in his heart.

“EX’ACT,” the Captain blurted out.

“I’m sorry?”

“That will be the new name for your team. EX’ACT,” the Captain clarified, “and each of you will meet with your designated tailor in the morning to fit for the uniforms.”

Minseok felt overwhelmed by the sudden news. When he made the deal to adopt Rogue, he didn’t think that they would all be a part of the same team. He assumed that the Captain would use them for separate missions. Whatever the Captain had in mind for the EX’ACT team, Minseok wasn’t entirely sure if he was on board with it anymore. 

He could feel the Captain’s contemplative stare pinning him to the chair, so Minseok did his best to shove the negative thoughts to the back of his mind. He knew that what he was about to ask was going to be stepping over too many lines, especially for someone of his rank, but he needed to soothe his curiosity. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Minseok folded his arms across his chest, “Why did you never tell me about Byun Baekhyun?”

The look that spread across the Captain’s face was murderous, “What do you think you know about him?  _ How _ did you even know about him?”

“You knew that I was going to find out one way or another,” Minseok spat back, “Perhaps you shouldn’t have assigned us to track a team that he just so happened to be a part of.”

“Get the  _ hell _ out of my office.”

Minseok stood and strolled over to the door, his hand hovered over the mechanism that would allow the door the fling open, “If you think those Rogue’s are going to want to stay after this truth rises to the surface...then you’re gravely mistaken.”

Minseok stalked out before whatever the Captain threw could nail him in the back of the head.

~

Everyone, including the former Rogue members, stormed Minseok the minute he charged through the door. He loosened the tie that ran around his collar and ripped the thick jacket from his body, tossing it aside onto the floor. In the time that Minseok had been gone, Jongdae had been dragged from his deep sleep and the sun began to shine through the window. It would most likely be a matter of moments before they got the call from their tailor to head upstairs for the fitting. 

“What did the Captain want?” Sehun had been leaning up against the kitchen counter, the only one of the eight who had enough common sense and respect to keep his distance. 

Minseok shook his head and made his way over to where the clothes he had been wearing earlier were discarded on the floor. He unbuttoned the white dress shirt and let it fall onto his now neatly made bed, and replaced it with the same shirt he picked up from the floor. He didn’t bother changing the pants, he knew the tailor would need to see them to compare the measurements. 

“The Captain has decided that we are all going to comprise of  _ one _ team,” Minseok relayed, “All  _ nine _ of us.”

Minseok turned just in time to catch Sehun pushing himself away from the countertop, as well as to witness the shock settle in everyone’s face. 

Sehun scoffed, “Well, this explains why the schematics that the Captain had delivered to Chanyeol and I detailed a ship that is two times the size of the 326.”

Minseok tried to ignore the comment as he settled in the seat at his computer desk, “EX’ACT.”

The other eight men that made up the room all turned their heads in Minseok’s direction.

“What?” Kyungsoo shoved his hands in his pockets.

“That’s the name of our team, apparently,” Minseok replied, “and we are all due upstairs anytime now for our uniform fittings, especially since none of us went the other day.”

No one responded. Instead of waiting for the call to come from their tailor, Junmyeon gathered the members who were ready and headed upstairs, knowing that Minseok would follow whenever he was available. Minseok unleashed a long breath he had been holding ever since the Captain’s call came in; he rested his head on the cool surface of the desk until he heard footsteps approaching.

“Minseok.”

Minseok gulped at Jongdae’s voice, which filled the room with a brief echo. He straightened in his chair as Jongdae pressed closer to the desk, and it wasn’t until he realized that Jongdae was planning to walk behind the desk that he stood. 

“Stop,” Minseok ordered. 

The word pierced Jongdae somewhere close enough for him to flinch, but he did as Minseok asked and settled himself in front of the desk.

“What are you still doing here?” Minseok didn’t even bother to look at him as he shuffled papers around on his desk. He was still standing, and even though they were roughly the same height, it seemed like Minseok was towering over him.  

“I just wanted to make sure that you were okay,” Jongdae admitted. 

Minseok could feel the painful strain that had squeezed his heart at the words. He hadn’t considered that perhaps his sudden pulling back may have alarmed Jongdae, which had now prompted Jongdae to seek him out further. Minseok sighed and collapsed into the chair once more, and looked Jongdae in the eye, “I’m fine, but you should really get going. Since the four of your are new, it’s going to take longer than usual for our tailor to take down your measurements.”

“I’ll wait for you to go too, then,” Jongdae offered.

Minseok shook his head, “I have some other work that I need to do before going up to see her, go on ahead of me. I’ll catch up.”

Jongdae was silent for a long minute as Minseok pulled up a variety of insignificant folders on his computer to make it took like he was working. Minseok briefly heard the sound of Jongdae’s footsteps fading away from him, but when he looked back to see if he had actually made his way upstairs, he found him sitting patiently atop Kyungsoo’s bed. 

Instinctually, Minseok rolled his eyes at the younger. He leaned slightly over beyond the computer screen to get a better look at him, “Jongdae...I told you to go upstairs.”

“And  _ I _ told  _ you _ that I would wait for you,” he retorted, folding his hands in his lap. 

Minseok held back a barking order, standing and pushing the chair away in the process. He rounded the desk and walked across the hardwood floor to where Jongdae was sitting, “Fine, let’s go then.”

A small smile grew across Jongdae’s face. He fell in line with Minseok’s step as they made their way out of the room and, for the second time today, into a nearby elevator. Minseok always commended the elevators at headquarters for being spacious, but for whatever reason, being enclosed in the same space as Jongdae made him feel suffocated. 

~

When Minseok walked through the door, there had not only been their one usual tailor working and measuring the EX’ACT members, but  _ four _ . He had shot a look of genuine confusion in Junmyeon’s general direction, who had been sitting on a cushioned bench that had been pressed up against the wall. Junmyeon’s slight shrug was the only answer that he received. 

Minseok generally never liked coming up to the tailors’ quarters. For starters, it was far too bright. The walls were stark white, as if they had just been painted yesterday, and adorned with a variety of potted flowers and plants along the many shelves that bordered the room. Secondly, he felt that their usual tailor was too flirtatious, and he had never been even remotely entertained by her advances, even though he could tell she was trying too hard. He could never bring himself to tell her the truth, so he opted for silence as an alternative. 

Jongdae hadn’t made a single move to make his way towards his friends, instead he took up the spot directly next to Minseok, who had found a convenient spot to lean against on the wall nearest to where Junmyeon was sitting. Jongdae gazed at his three friends in a shy amusement. Minseok figured that the Rogue members had never been fitted before for...anything, most likely. The awkward and shy expressions that lined each of their faces had been proof enough for Minseok’s theory. 

The fourth tailor that had been casually leaning against the opposing wall approached Jongdae as soon as she saw an open opportunity, “This way, please.”

Jongdae sought after the confirmation he needed from Minseok for him to go with her. Minseok just waved him off and dropped down in the spot next to Junmyeon on the bench. 

“So,” Junmyeon lowered his voice enough for Minseok to hear. Chanyeol and Sehun had been sitting in a set of over-sized, plush cushions that sat in the opposite corner of the room. Kyungsoo was nowhere to be seen, “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

Minseok turned his head slightly, just enough for him to catch Junmyeon in his peripheral vision, “What?”

Junmyeon rolled his eyes and briefly nudged his head in Jongdae’s direction, “You’re not going to tell me what’s going on with you and that one over there?”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

Junmyeon scoffed, leaning his head back against the wall, “I saw both of you sleeping in your bed the other day...you hardly let anyone even  _ think _ about sitting on your bed.”

“He was injured and it was my responsibility to take care of him,” Minseok reminded him, “Kyungsoo made that clear enough.”

Minseok glanced around the room once more to see if perhaps he had overlooked Kyungsoo’s presence, but was met with nothing.

“He left shortly before you and Jongdae arrived,” Junmyeon confirmed Minseok’s suspicions, “The seamstresses knew that his uniform size wasn’t going to be changing anytime soon, so he opted to leave to work on some other things he had been putting on the backburner for a while now.” 

Minseok mindlessly nodded his head at the useless information. He shoved his hands in his pockets as he surveyed the Rogue members in their most unnatural habitat. Somehow Minseok’s eyes had instinctually pulled to Baekhyun and the mysterious shadow that shrouded him. 

Whether it was intentional or not, Minseok had been making himself a lot of promises lately. He knew that it wasn’t his place to expose the truth about Baekhyun, knowing that the information might be harmful to the people around him, just so that he could get the answers that mere files could not provide him. Ever since he finished going through Baekhyun’s file, he had become wildly curious about him, but he resisted the urge to confront him, at least while Jongdae or anyone else was around, which was almost never.

He must have been staring for too long, because Minseok could feel Junmyeon nudge him out of his trance. 

Minseok rolled his eyes at the gesture as Baekhyun stepped down from the step that jutted out from the floor and strolled off to made himself comfortable in a vacant corner far off from everyone else. He kept his eyes glued to his friends as if they would disappear if he looked away for even a moment.

The younger woman who had just finished with Baekhyun was now standing in front of Minseok, smiling warmly, “This way, sir.”

Minseok sighed as he pushed himself up and away from Junmyeon, who settled with taking a power nap for the time being. Minseok took a large step up onto the base and stared at himself in the reflection. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was expecting to find, but he was surprised to see the exhaustion that draped his entire body. Even from a distance, Minseok could see the gray-purple bags that lined his under eyes. Minseok reflexibally straightened his posture a bit at the sight. He might as well have had a sign that ran across his forehead that read  _ overworked _ .

Minseok did not like having nothing to do. Even the simple act of standing there, lifting his arms ever so often, wasn’t enough to distract his mind from the thoughts and feelings that lingered beyond the surface. He couldn’t stop his mind from travelling to the young man that stood next to him. He wasn’t entirely sure how Kim Jongdae managed to slip through the thick and well-guarded defenses that were settled deep within Minseok’s soul, but somehow he managed to get past all of it. Minseok felt secure in the fact that Jongdae knew next to nothing about him, but what worried him was that Jongdae had unlocked the potential for him to unpack all of the baggage that was buried there. All of the skeletons that sat deep at the bottom of all that baggage.

Minseok suddenly feared how Jongdae, or anyone else for that matter, would react to his past with Luhan. What had happened to him, and the quick, yet brutal death that had brought upon him. All of these years later, Minseok felt the heavy burden of Luhan’s death that weighed on his shoulders. All of the tension that had been built and hidden beneath the weight made Minseok feel like he was about to snap. He could feel something twisting in his stomach, he squeezed his eyes closed at the slight discomfort and attempted to push it as far down as he possibly could.

He could feel the tailor wrapping the measuring tape around the midsection of his abdomen. When he dared to opened his eyes he found both the tailor and Jongdae staring at him. His eyes couldn’t have been closed for that long, but in between the seconds that they were, Jongdae had come down from his step and found his place in front of him. Now keenly aware of the situation, Minseok could feel several pairs of eyes lingering either on himself or on the small amount of space that separated him from Jongdae. One stare felt heavier than the rest.

“What are you doing?” the bland words tumbled out of Minseok’s mouth and onto Jongdae.

Jongdae jumped in surprise at the sudden question, “I wasn’t really paying attention when the tailor was measuring me, so I thought I’d watch your tailor measure you so I could get a better idea of what the process is actually like.”

“And you can’t observe from somewhere else?” The words reverted to the cold and harsh tone that he had settled for the last several years, and Minseok could feel the ice crawling up his spine. Heavy, solid, and unmoving. 

He noticed the flinch that sent Jongdae back a step. 

Minseok would push back, he’d keep pushing and pushing until he felt nothing once more. He repeated the words over and over in his head everyday like a manta:  _ do not allow yourself to get close to anyone ever again _ . It wasn’t just a promise he had made for himself, but one he made to Luhan, as well. Minseok could hardly pay attention to the fading of Jongdae’s footsteps that were headed in Baekhyun’s general direction. 

A sudden typhoon of emotions had overtaken him. He felt as if he was suffocating. The walls seemed to be getting closer and closer to him until he felt like he needed to push against them to prevent from crushing him.

Minseok stumbled off of the step. The tape measure fell from the tailor’s hand as she gasped. Several apologizes escaped her lips, but the only thing that made sense to Minseok in that moment was for him to flee the room as fast as he possibly could. He took off for the nearest elevator, fresh tears threatened to spill beyond his lashes. Once he made it into the elevator and the doors had closed, he collapsed onto the cold, hard floor. It was the most Minseok had cried ever since he was a child. He had never properly mourned for Luhan’s death, and by means of avoiding the pain that lingered beneath his thick skin, he had buried himself in as much work that he possible could. He spent every minute of the days following the tragedy working himself to the point of somewhere far past exhaustion. They were the only times that Minseok would be able to sleep soundly. Albeit, a forced sleep. He couldn’t even count the amount of time he had passed out from the pure exhaustion that he felt deep down in the core of his bones. Regardless of whether it was on the street or a few feet away from his bed, he could recall never making it to the comfort of his mattress. 

Minseok could vividly remember the drastic drop in his overall health during the first year after the events of that night. He easily lost about fifty pounds just from not eating alone. He looked sickly, someone had even said so themselves. At the time, Minseok was still invaluable to the Captain, so it had been clear that he never noticed the alarming changes that were occuring on and beneath the surface. All the Captain cared about was the fact that Minseok’s drive to kill had amped up several degrees. The urge to do the only thing he was good at was strong, and each name that the Captain had delivered to him was nothing more than a name on a piece of paper. The name hadn’t mattered anyway, because for each new task he was assigned, all he could see was that assassin who had slit Luhan’s throat clean open.

The undiluted rage and agonizing sadness burned under Minseok’s skin. He could not understand why the memories would flood back like this. It served as a constant reminder of Minseok’s gravest mistake, and the emotions that were associated with those wrong doings would creep up on him whenever he assumed that things were finally getting better for himself. The memories would consume him just long enough to recondition him into the icy leader he had painted himself to be. He dragged himself up from the cold floor and up the wall at the same time that the elevator stopped at his floor. He stumbled out, latching onto anything that he could find to keep himself upright long enough for him to get to the comfort of his room. It took several zig-zagged steps for him to get through the door, but once he did he was ready to make a mad dash for anywhere else. Yet, he knew that his legs would not function long enough for him to make a run for it. Away from Jongdae.

“Min—”

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Minseok’s voice was raspy and ice cold, he composed himself and began making his way across the room.

“Minseok, just talk to me.”

He ignored the words, but as he went to pass up Jongdae, Jongdae’s hand closed around his arm. 

Minseok spun around and was aware of how close Jongdae was and only continued to pull him closer and closer until there was no room left between the two. 

“Let go of my arm,” Minseok’s voice was lethal. He could see Jongdae shiver at the cold breeze that practically passed with the words. 

“What is going on with you?” Jongdae responded with the same intensity, “Just the other day you were practically begging me to forgive you...trying to write your wrongs. And now…”

A mixed look of disgust and disbelief filled Jongdae’s face as he began to trail off. Minseok took the brief opportunity to pull away, but at the smallest movement Jongdae had clamped down even more, “And now, what?”

“And now...you treat me as if I’m nothing more than an insect that you walk by in the hallway, unbeknownst to you that it’s even there.”

“What do you want from me? What do you want me to do?!” Minseok could feel his voice reverberate in his chest as he voice started to rise.

“Don’t make me regret my choice.” It seemed that everyone lately had been questioning their choices when it came to Minseok. Kyungsoo’s harsh words regarding his wavering decision to follow him as his leader replayed in the back of his mind. 

“What  _ choice _ ?”

“The choice I made to be your friend.”

The words that neither of them wanted to say were out in the open. A deafening silence filled the room, and Minseok could feel the tidal wave of emotions stirring inside of him once again. He knew he needed to get out of that room, but Jongdae’s grip was made of iron—solid and unforgiving. 

“ _ Let go of me _ ,” Minseok’s voice wavered. He began to shake uncontrollably, and Jongdae took note of the sudden movement beneath his hand. 

Jongdae furrowed his eyebrows together. Without speaking, he dragged Minseok to the nearer of the two couches, forcing him to sit. Minseok couldn’t stop the incessant shaking. He was nowhere near from cold, but the memories engulfed him, dragging him under a tsunami of violent and hypnotic emotions. 

“Take your shirt off,” Jongdae ordered. 

The most raw look of disbelief contorted Minseok’s face as the words sank into his mind, “Absolutely not.”

He could see a vague irritation flash in Jongdae’s eyes, “Look if you do this for me, I promise I’ll back off. You made it abundantly clear that you regret the decision that you made anyways.”

For whatever reason, the words made Minseok sad. If only Jongdae knew the real reason...only then would he understand why it was better for him to take the necessary steps away from him. 

Minseok sighed and pushed himself to the edge of the couch. It was just enough room for him to grip the side of his shirt and tear it over his head. He threw the shirt in front of Jongdae’s feet and propped himself against the cushion. 

Jongdae took several steps to close the small gap that had been between them, “Lay down.”

Minseok unwillingly obeyed and stretched his body along the length of the large couch. Jongdae settled to sit on the edge of the cushion next to Minseok, and from this angle it were as if Jongdae now towered over him. Jongdae didn’t say anything as he pushed forward and cupped his hands around the back of Minseok’s neck. The shaking had grown violent, and the nerves that dwelled in his stomach because of the situation at hand hadn’t helped in calming his body. 

Jongdae took a deep breath, and when he exhaled, a sudden jolt was sent down Minseok’s spine, “What the…”

Minseok craned his neck just enough to see the red sparks that danced around Jongdae’s wrist, but instead of panicking, Minseok felt a strange sense of calm settle over him. Without removing his hands with Minseok’s skin for even a second, Jongdae’s gentle hands caressed the curves of his shoulders. The buzz of his lightning crackled in Minseok’s ears. The lightning itself wasn’t painful, not like the lightning from the other day in the sparring ring. It puzzled him a great deal, considering that he dove straight through that lightning the other day which had been so painful that if the adrenaline hadn’t been pumping through his veins, he was sure he would have been knocked out from the pain. He could feel all sorts of questions racking and piling up in his mind. 

Jongdae dragged his hands lower and lower down Minseok’s body. One hand slid to the midst of his chest, while the other delved deeper to above the top of his pants. Minseok briefly arched his hips at the contact, the way that the lightning just seemed to soak up the burning ache that had settled deep in his soul was one of the greatest feelings that Minseok had ever come to know. It felt like someone was lightly dragging their nails up and down his skin. He could feel his muscles loosen further as Jongdae’s touch roamed to his hips.

Jongdae watched as Minseok’s eyes fluttered closed, the energy that was being emitted from the touch dragged him under the spell that was being cast by Jongdae’s hands—by that blood-red lightning. Jongdae was aware of the shaking that halted in Minseok’s body, and the newfound shaking that took over his own arms. He went to lift the hand closest to him, but was surprised when Minseok’s hand came down atop of his own. Minseok’s eyes were open once more and the two of them held the other’s gaze. It wasn’t until Minseok noticed the trembling in Jongdae’s arms and shoulders that he finally sat up. 

“How are you feeling now?” Jongdae asked before Minseok could start asking any questions of his own. 

Minseok shook his head, “What did you do? Jongdae, what did you do?”

Jongdae looked away from Minseok’s accusing stare. He wasn’t entirely sure how the process worked himself. It wasn’t anything like healing, not even close, but he knew that it would provide relief to at one party at a given time.

“Jongdae,” Minseok pulled on his shoulder hard enough to pull him back in his general direction, “ _ What did you do _ ?”

He sighed and could feel his hand shaking underneath Minseok’s, “You’re feeling better now, right?”

“Yes, but...how? Why?”

Jongdae balled up the hand that was hidden beneath Minseok’s. Minseok didn’t dare to pull his hand away, if anything he let it morph and mold to Jongdae’s. For whatever reason, Jongdae felt a shallow sense of relief flood over him, as if everything were going to be okay. 

“I do not really understand how it works, if I am being honest with myself,” Jongdae prefaced, “All I have been able to figure out is that it is a replacement of energy. The lightning soaks up and collects the negative energy in your body and replaces it with a positive one.”

A vague look of confusion fell across Minseok’s face, “But where does the positive energy come from? It’s not like lightning is…”

Jongdae could feel his heart starting to race at the same moment the realization had surfaced on Minseok’s face. The shaking in his arms began to exceed just a mere trembling.

“Jongdae…” 

He shook his head at the sound of his name on Minseok’s lips. Minseok’s hand tightened around Jongdae’s fist. He could see the internal conflict that was buried deep within Minseok as the realization began to settle.

“ _ Jongdae _ .”

“I told you,” Jongdae blurted out, “It’s a replacement. In order for you to feel the relief, something, or someone, else needs to shoulder the burden. It’s not like healing where pains can be eradicated or reconstructed. It is a transfer of energy from one person to another.”

Minseok was silent for a very long moment before being able to look Jongdae in the eyes, “Why did you do it?”

Jongdae gulped at the question he hoped wouldn’t have come, and shuttered a shaky sigh, “You would have done it for me.”

It wasn’t until Minseok pushed his fingers in between the tight crevices of his balled up hand that Jongdae realized he was right. 

“How did you figure all of that out?” Minseok questioned.

Jongdae took another deep breath in an attempt to calm the shaking, “It wasn’t until I did the very same thing for Jongin once. He had been thrown against a rock wall and had been moaning and groaning about the pain for nearly a week. I did the same thing that I had just done to you, but on his back, and minutes later, I could feel this burning and aching pain settle in my back. It was that day that confirmed all of my suspicions about how the ability worked. I had always known that the lightning will do whatever I command it to. The level of discomfort, or pain, that comes with the lightning is all based on intent. If it is my intention to kill or harm, then the lightning is more painful.”

Minseok was dumbfounded by the theory that Jongdae had formed about himself, about how his power functioned. He had never realized just how versatile lightning could be. It was all the confirmation that he needed to understand how selfless Jongdae actually was. His actions spoke a novel’s length to attest to that. 

“Thank you,” Minseok whispered, “and...I’m sorry.”

A confused expression sprawled across Jongdae’s face, “For what?”

“For...everything.”

Jongdae flexed his fingers and let them fall and spread against Minseok’s upper thigh, Minseok’s fingers were still laced with his own. A few long minutes passed with them sitting there in that comfortable silence until Minseok’s head shot up.

“Jongdae,” Minseok’s voice sounded curious, “There was no thunder.”

Jongdae let the information settle for a moment before dragging his eyes up from their tangled hands to meet Minseok’s eyes, and for the first time in twenty-six years, Jongdae’s lightning ceased to make a sound. 


	21. CHAPTER 21: TEAM EX'ACT

Jongdae sat and talked with Minseok for a long time after the shaking had dissolved. They talked about rather minute, insignificant things, but he was grateful that they had decided to be more open with one another. Although, Jongdae knew that he wasn’t even scratching the surface of what was far beneath the facade that Minseok had spent all of these years developing and perfecting. But it was a start. He wasn’t entirely sure how much time had passed, but the small world that they had been enclosed in had been disrupted by the incessant ringing of Minseok’s phone, which eventually resulted in him having to abandon their conversation, and save the rest of it for another time. 

Yixing walked in not too long after Minseok had left after reconfiguring his uniform, and strolled towards Jongdae.

“Have you been here this whole time?” Yixing crashed down onto the couch directly next to Jongdae.

Jongdae silently nodded. 

Yixing’s stare felt like a heavy weight and even though the silence between the two was and always had been comfortable, he suddenly felt a wave of discomfort wash over him.

“What are you thinking about?” Yixing’s voice was soft. It was one of the many things that Jongdae appreciated about his leader. He was never quick to judge and he had never been a harsh reprimader. There had only been a handful of instances that he could remember where Yixing would lose his grip on the leash that he tied himself down with. The flash of Yixing’s anger-filled face was fear enticing enough to keep the remaining members in line.

Jongdae loosed a sigh, “I don’t even really know. I feel like the last few weeks have been so stressful and the conflict that I’m feeling within myself...I don’t know, Xing.”

“I know,” he replied, “I know it’s a lot. It’s been a lot for all of us.”

The image of Baekhyun sinking to his knees that day amidst all of the steam and fighting on Pluto flickered in Jongdae’s mind. The desperation that had been laced in Baekhyun’s voice that sang to Jongdae’s very blood. Jongdae hadn’t realized just how much he needed his team until now. Yixing twisted his head at the noise of someone pushing open the door and walking through the large room. Jongdae followed suit and watched at Baekhyun stalked closer to the two of them, and not too long after that Jongin suddenly flashed and appeared on the couch directly across from them. 

None of the other EX’ACT members were around and despite the awkward tension that filled the room, Jongdae could still feel that familiar comfort that he treasured as a member of Rogue.

“Baekhyun,” Yixing’s voice cut through the awkward silence, “go over there and sit next to Jongin.”

He didn’t even question Yixing’s orders. He stood and took a seat next to Jongin on the couch opposite of their own, and when Baekhyun’s eyes met Jongdae’s a strong wave of emotions had filled the air, even though no words had been exchanged. Now that he was alone with the Rogue members, which he felt might have been set up by the ACE team members, he recalled everything that he had been feeling and thinking about ever since he was secured in ACE’s clutches. A sense of selfishness started stirring in Jongdae’s stomach, and the exhaustion that was written all over the faces of his Rogue companions only added to the feeling.

Yixing threw an arm around the back of the couch, which he let settle behind Jongdae’s shoulders, and cleared his throat, “I think this is the first time that we’ve all had a chance to be alone together ever since Callisto.”

Jongin nodded mindlessly from across the glass coffee table, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the edge of his knees, “As abrupt as this may seem, I hope you’ll be able to open up to us about what’s been going on with you, Jongdae.”

Jongdae felt strange hearing his name come from Jongin’s lips. He knew it had been a while since he had heard the familiar tones of their voices, but he felt like he still needed to get accustomed to hearing it again. He nodded his head in a silent agreement to Jongin’s request, “I wouldn’t even know where to start…”

Yixing lightly brushed Jongdae’s shoulder, a small gesture of encouragement, “Why don’t we get some of the more glaring and pressing things out of the way that I know is on everyone’s mind.”

Pluto. No one needed to say the name for Jongdae to know that’s what Yixing was referring to.

“I already told all of you that I chose to leave that day because I wanted to protect you,” Jongdae began, “I felt that maybe if I had kept my distance, Alpha wouldn’t have even thought to touch any of you. We all know that the main reason why the mission failed was because of me, and that Alpha will do away with anyone who is caught in a hostage situation. I knew that if I returned, it would have been the end of me...I couldn’t let that be any of your fates.”

“You—you do realize that we would cross the span of the entire universe for you, right? I would rather have run from Alpha and his god damned henchmen for the rest of my life than let you come  _ here _ and let  _ them _ do anything to you” Baekhyun sat up a little straighter. “You lied to us, Jongdae...you told us that they didn’t even so much as touch you.”

“It was training—”

“It was  _ training _ , my ass,” Baekhyun interrupted, “Jongdae, you had the worst bruises I had ever seen on a person, and you’re going to try to convince  _ me _ that it was all because of some playful sparring? No.  _ No _ .”

Jongdae gulped back the sudden shockwave of electricity that flowed through his veins, “You weren’t there.”

“We didn’t need to be there,” Jongin interjected. This came as a surprise to the other Rogue members. Generally, Jongin tried not to give his two-sense on...anything. Especially, something like this. “The damage that had been done to your body was answer enough for all of us.”

“They just train differently here.”

Baekhyun groaned a sound of irritation, “When are you going to admit that you are just trying to make excuses for them? That you’re trying to defend them?”

There was a long pause and the room had filled with a tension that could cut through solid ice.

Baekhyun stare went straight through Jongdae’s soul, it was accusing, taunting. 

“What have they done to you, Dae...what have they done to make you embrace them the way that you have?” 

Jongdae and Baekhyun locked eyes and it was almost as if the fires that lit their souls had manifested in between them. Red and blue flames entangling and taunting one another, mixing until they formed a blinding, fiery orange. He and Baekhyun had always been the opposite of one another, but they came together to form each other’s perfect twin flame. Baekhyun’s flame omitted the most blinding beautiful light that helped to calm and soothe the storm of Jongdae’s own soul. And now the scale of that storm was raging deep inside him, while Baekhyun’s light seemed to pull further and further away to avoid getting caught in the crossroads of the hectic cyclone that raged deep within.

“They haven’t done anything,” Jongdae’s answer was firm.

Baekhyun gnawed on his knuckles for a brief moment, “There you go again with the excuses—”

“You have no idea what I’ve been through to get here, to be here with you right now.”

“No,” Yixing cut in, “We don’t.”

Yixing’s extended a glare in Baekhyun’s general direction before turning back to Jongdae, “So, why don’t you tell us what happened.”

A million thoughts ran through Jongdae’s mind; he hadn’t been able to grasp just how much he had been through in such a short amount of time. The failed Callisto operation, the concussion and interrogation, the several healing sessions that Junmyeon had graciously performed, Pluto, the training session, everything that had led to the fragile bond that manifested between him and Minseok, and now Rogue being here with him in the same place. He felt overwhelmed by the overload of images and sparse memories that manifested in the back of his mind. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed since Yixing posed his question, but it had been long enough, considering that Jongin stood from his spot on the couch and found a new spot on the glass coffee table right in front of Jongdae.

“I know that this has been difficult for you,” Jongin’s voice was soft, yet stern, “Unlike the three of us, you had to go through all of this alone. I understand that you had the ACE members by your side, but I can imagine that that weren’t there for you at the very beginning. I had Baekhyun and Yixing, and they had me. But who did you have? For a while, I’m sure it was just yourself, and it broke my heart every single day that passed when you weren’t with us. Deep down, I want to say that everything is going to be alright, but right now, I don’t really know what to feel, especially now that we are here.”

“We’ve been Rogue for many years now,” Yixing intervened, “and I can vividly remember that when we were first brought together we wanted absolutely nothing to do with one another. It had taken a lot of time, and a lot of near-death situations to help guide us into the people we have become...the broken family that we’ve formed. Even with everything that we’ve been through the last several weeks, I wouldn’t change any of it for better or for worse, because at least we are together now. But...it was  _ hard _ . These last few weeks have been nothing but mentally and physically tasking on all of us.”

Jongdae listened to Yixing recount the various struggles that they faced together as a trio, the hardships that he faced as a leader and a friend. From what he had been able to gather, Baekhyun had been affected the most out of the three, which didn’t necessarily come off as a surprise to Jongdae whatsoever. Baekhyun could hardly stand being in a different room than Jongdae, let alone everything they had encountered lately. Yixing described the many consecutive sleepless nights that he faced in order to watch over Baekhyun, who for the first several days had been consumed by the worst hysterics that Yixing had ever witnessed. He had refused to eat, which explained why he seemed to fit  _ too _ well in Jongdae’s arms when they embraced for the first time since Callisto. It also hadn’t shocked Jongdae to hear that Baekhyun, or any of them really, had not been able to consistently sleep. According to Jongin, he had been the only one who took the time to sleep or take naps. If it wasn’t Yixing piloting the aircraft, it would have been Jongin, and if Yixing wasn’t piloting, he was doing whatever he could to keep Baekhyun calm for as long as he could until the hysterics would resurface once again. And it had all made a lot of sense. When Jongdae had seen the three of them the other day through the computer, Baekhyun looked so pale that he was nearly convinced that he had been sick. When in actuality, he had been suffering in partial silence.

Even if Yixing and Jongin had been there to look over him, he knew Baekhyun well enough to know that he wouldn’t have accepted anything from either of them. He could imagine his best friend curled up in his bed, if he even made it that far, refusing to eat, waking from random and sporadic nightmares that would flash behind his tired eyes. It would have been enough to keep him up for days at the very least, but Jongdae had underestimated how much the situation had actually affected Baekhyun. He had gotten the worst of it all. The boy who felt too much, and received nothing in return. 

Jongdae thought about the five men who had been keeping him company and had been responsible for looking after him ever since he had been separated from Rogue. He spoke of the resentment that they each held towards one another when each of them had finally returned to consciousness after the explosion. He detailed ACE’s poor attempt at an interrogation and his obvious lack of serious participation, which made Baekhyun beam with pride. A round a chuckles filled the large room at the smug look that had crossed his features. However, the conversation took a stark turn when he finally found the courage to discuss what had happened in the training session that hadn’t been too long ago. 

Jongdae loosed a shaky breath, after explaining the complex process behind how he and Minseok had ended up in the ring together, “As much as I hate to admit it, everything that happened on that day in that ring was both of our faults. We were both silently begging for a fight, and we were both willing to take whatever lengths to beat the other. Hell, part of the rules they had set was that neither of the opponents were allowed to use their powers. It seems that they acknowledged that some individuals would be at a clear advantages, while others would be disadvantaged in a fight like that, so I gleaned that they prefer to fight the old-fashion way for this reason. But my pride got the better of me and I opted to fight with powers anyways. Somewhere along the way, it had become more than a mere miniscule fight to see who was second best. It had become personal, for not just him, not just for me, but for the both of us. Despite all of the petty taunting, we were fighting for something that neither of us could really understand. It had nothing to do with protecting ourselves, or listening to our survival instincts, but something much deeper. We were at each other’s throats and if it hadn’t been for Chanyeol or Kyungsoo, I’m not exactly sure what would have happened to either of us. We damn near killed one another. The way we looked at each other...I don’t think I’ll ever forget that.”

Jongdae chuckled to himself, “I remember thinking that I was absolutely fascinated by his power. Not just the sheer and uncompromising strength, but the control that he had over it. Even I will admit that I wish I was half the fighter that Kim Minseok was on that day, or perhaps in general. He embraced fear and death as if they were his closest friends. All of the rumors that we’ve heard about him being damn near invincible...all of it was instantly confirmed when he charged straight through my lightning and escaped completely unscathed.” 

Baekhyun, Jongin, and Yixing all stared at Jongdae for a long moment, processing all of the information that he had dumped onto the them. He could see the questions that lingered in their eyes, they were most likely questions that Jongdae had formed in the back of his mind, and he craved the answers that even the ACE members had never been able to drag from the deep and dark abyss that made up Minseok’s past. 

Of his three friends, he could see a sense of understanding finally blossom on Yixing’s face. The reason why Jongdae had been drawn to Minseok so intensely. He knew it would take Baekhyun and Jongin a lot longer for them to reach that same understanding, but as long as one of them was finally able to discern why he had grown increasingly fond of the ACE, now EX’ACT leader, then he could live with that.

The bobbing of Yixing’s Adam’s apple caught Jongdae’s attention. He lifted his eyes to meet Yixing’s, whose soft voice reached to touch his soul, “ _ Dae _ ...you can’t save everyone. Not when you have to save yourself first.”

“I can try,” Jongdae proposed, his voice nothing more than a mere whisper, “Can’t I?”

Yixing loosed a breath, “You of all people know how much baggage I carry, Jongdae, and I feel that I can confidently assume that I have not seen nearly as many horrors as Kim Minseok. People know his reputation, Dae, and if they don’t know it now...then then will know it eventually. History will know his past, all of the mistakes and wrong doings that he’s written for himself, whether it be intentional or not. There’s nothing you can do to save him from that fate.”

“You are a kind soul, Kim Jongdae,” Baekhyun interceded, “Some may say that you are too kind for this world—this universe. A man like Kim Minseok is far beyond saving.”

“There is potential there,” Jongdae offered, “I can see it.”

Baekhyun shook his head gravely, “I’m saying this because you’re the closest thing I have to a brother, and I care about you more than I care about anything else in the world. If you don’t stop all of this, the only person you’re going to end up hurting is yourself. Even if trying to understand Kim Minseok was even remotely possible for someone like you, you don’t have enough heart to go around. I know you, and you would willingly sacrifice that precious heart of yours for any of us if it meant sparing our own hearts from the pains and turmoils that they have endured up until this point. And now...now, you are doing the same thing with Minseok. I can see the fire in your eyes. You want to understand the traumas and motivations that have corrupted his heart, and you want to find a way to fill the empty space that is there. Empty space that he has most likely carved out himself.”

“Baekhyun is right,” Jongin clasped a hand on Jongdae’s shoulder and gave it a small squeeze, “There’s not enough of you to go around, and the truth of the matter is...you don’t take care of yourself. You’re own heart. You’re the most selfless person I know, and you’re everything that I could ever aspire to be as I continue to learn more about myself and about the life that I lead, but...you need to learn to help yourself instead of giving each and every piece of yourself to others. You can’t save someone else, if you cannot save yourself.”

“Kim Minseok is not the type of man who will open himself up for just anyone, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you should follow in his example,” Baekhyun admitted.

Jongdae couldn’t help but feel that his friends were wrong about Minseok. He thought back to those icy hands that helped to soothe the aches and pains of the bruises which had been left beneath the surface of his skin. He thought of the offer that made Rogue’s presence here even remotely possible. More than that, he thought of the reason why he was so curious about his newfound relationship with Kim Minseok, especially now. 

“My lightning,” Jongdae wondered aloud, “It didn’t make a single noise earlier.”

Baekhyun blinked, “It what?”

Jongdae nodded in confirmation, “It happened when I ran down here after Minseok.”

“What happened?” Yixing coaxed.

Jongdae shrugged his shoulders, “To be honest, I’m not really sure. He was having something along the lines of a panic attack. So, I used the technique that I’ve used on each of you, but when I did it this time around, the lightning did not omit even a whisper of thunder. If Minseok had not pointed it out, I probably wouldn’t have noticed it.”

Baekhyun shot a questioning look in Yixing’s direction, but even Yixing couldn’t come up with a reasonable explanation. 

~

The four of them sat there for hours attempting to come up with theories as to why Jongdae’s lightning hadn’t deigned thunder of any capacity, and by the end of it the long debate, they still couldn’t come up with a solid idea. So, they settled to sleep on it and come back to it later. 

Jongdae had been mentally drained and it hadn’t taken him very long to doze off after they each decided a nap would do them all some good. 

It was dark when Jongdae had awoken from what was supposed to be a short nap, but he found himself cocooned in Baekhyun’s arms. Jongdae feared that even the slightest movement would wake his best friend, so he opted for closing his eyes and made a poor attempt at falling back asleep. But when sleep hadn’t claimed him, he could feel himself growing more and more restless. He needed to get up and move around.

Jongdae hadn’t even realized that he had been sweating. He could never recall a time when Baekhyun’s body heat had been as intense as it was now. He genuinely felt that if he didn’t move to get away that he would suffocate from the unbearable heat. Jongdae slipped his arms away from Baekhyun’s torso and untangled his legs which now stuck to Baekhyun because of the sweat. After several small and long maneuvers, he had managed to free himself from Baekhyun’s embrace. 

He walked himself over to the kitchen and filled a glass of water, chugging several glasses until he felt replenished. Jongdae felt a vague feeling of surprise to see that Minseok was still awake, sitting at his computer, which had been the only remaining light source to fill the room. Minseok made no moves to acknowledge Jongdae’s presence across the room, and it wasn’t until Jongdae had stepped up onto the small platform where the desk sat that Minseok looked away from the computer screen.

“You’re awake,” Minseok went to check the clock that sat next to his phone, which read that it was one in the morning.

Jongdae nodded, “I probably would have slept longer if Baekhyun’s body heat wasn’t smoldering me.”

Minseok let out an amused noised at this, “Feel free to take the bed, I’m going to be staying up for a little longer anyways.”

Jongdae’s eyebrows crinkled at the information, “Have you slept?”

Minseok’s lack of response was answer enough for Jongdae, who huffed an irritated sigh. Jongdae reached across the stacks of paper that lined his desk, which he knew Minseok would never write on, and put the computer to sleep. 

“Go to sleep, Minseok,” Jongdae ordered. 

“You—”

“ _ Sleep _ ,” Jongdae pleaded. 

Minseok scanned his eyes for a brief moment, and Jongdae wasn’t entirely sure what Minseok had seen in there, but whatever it was, it was enough for him to push his chair back and make his way towards that enormous bed of his. 

“Goodnight, Minseok,” Jongdae whispered as he started to make his way towards the couches once more.

There was a long silence that filled the air around him, he figured that Minseok had been so exhausted that he had fallen asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, which seemed to be a reoccurring trend. Jongdae settled on the opposite end of the couch from Baekhyun in hopes that sleep would overcome him now that he was able to breathe. 

A couple of hours had passed and sleep never came. He was left to listen to the soft snores of those around him. 

Until suddenly a voice broke through the silence that he had grown accustomed to, it was nothing more than a brief whisper, but he had heard it nonetheless, “Goodnight, Jongdae.”

Then, finally, drowsiness consumed him, and he floated and was carried away by the waves of a distant dreamscape. 

It was the best night's’ sleep that he had gotten in years. 


	22. CHAPTER 22: TEAM EX'ACT

Baekhyun woke to the clinking and clanking of dishes against dishes. Not only that, but to a familiar sensation massaging his scalp. 

Beneath his closed eyelids, he could tell that the light from the sun was trickling in through the large windows and over the edge of the couch. When he finally took the time to brave the bright light, he noticed that he had no longer been laying against the pillows that he had propped up for him and Jongdae the night before. Instead, his head conformed to the lines and folds of Jongdae’s lap, whose gentle fingers were tangled in his hair. Jongdae had not yet noticed that he had awoken, but he preferred it that way.

Baekhyun had not realized until now that Jongdae looked the same as he always had. Regardless of the fact that he looked slightly exhausted, he looked like himself. He was bathed in the sunlight that streamed through the windows, which added a bit of color to his mildly tanned skin. He thought about all of the times that they would sit like this in the comfort of Rogue’s run down aircraft. After their friendship had been established, both of them had quickly learned how to cram themselves into the most comfortable position on his top bunk. They would sit for hours sharing and turning over the various nightmares that would keep them up in the middle of the night. Baekhyun could vividly recall the times that Jongdae would struggle to climb up the side of his and Jongin’s bunk without waking Jongin in the process. Only to be caught sleeping in the same bunk by Yixing when morning would come. For a while, Jongin and Yixing had questioned why the two of them had started making a habit of sleeping in the uncomfortable confines of Baekhyun’s twin mattress, but Yixing’s intuition had always been much stronger than most. Yixing was able to glean that neither of them had been sleeping properly. He could see it in their facial features, in the way the skin underneath their eyes sagged and how their overall reflexes had slowed. Ever since then, no one had questioned Jongdae and Baekhyun’s unusual habits.

Baekhyun thought back to that day on Europa that brought Jongdae and himself together. The image of Jongdae desperately holding onto him for dear life flickered in his mind’s eye. Not only that, but he could see the fire that had nearly engulfed both of them. The makeshift pits of hell directly beneath their feet. 

The bomb. 

As dangerous as the situation had been, that bomb had done so many things for Baekhyun. 

_ Don’t you dare give up on me now. Don’t give up on us. _

Baekhyun  _ had _ been ready to give it all up. The mission, Rogue, Jongdae...himself. In those fleeting moments, Baekhyun’s mind and soul had never been more conflicted. They fought and tore at one another until his soul had finally gained the upper hand. 

“What are you thinking about?” Jongdae’s voice was a mere whisper, but it seemed so loud in Baekhyun’s ear. 

Baekhyun dragged his attention away from the blank, pale ceiling and he found that Jongdae’s eyes had settled on his own. He shook his head and craned his neck a bit so that his head would be able to rest in the valley of his legs more comfortably. Jongdae’s hand pushed further into his hair until he was practically running his hand through it. Baekhyun’s eyes fluttered closed at the soothing sensation. Jongdae adjusted himself beneath Baekhyun’s head, most likely to prevent his legs from falling asleep, as he played with his hair. Baekhyun could feel himself falling into half-sleep-like state, but he had been dragged back into the reality that he was attempting to escape when Jongdae’s incessant hand had been plucked from his hair. He forced his eyes open to see what had caused the sudden disruption, and when he turned his head to look beyond the couches, he watched as Yixing and a few of the ACE members set the table for what looked to be breakfast. 

“Are you hungry?” Jongdae offered. 

Baekhyun had just sat up and left the brief gesture for him instead. The two of them stood from the couch and padded over to the table which was now twice as long as it had been the day prior.

“What’s all of this?” Baekhyun asked Yixing.

Yixing was in the middle of setting water glasses around the other dishes, he didn’t even look up from what he was doing when he said, “Junmyeon and Minseok thought it might be good for all of us to sit down and eat something together. So, that’s what we are going to do.”

A small intonation of irritation had risen up Baekhyun’s spine, but he knew that he needed to cooperate to the best of his ability for Jongdae’s sake. He was willing to admit to himself that Jongdae wasn’t going to stop embracing the ACE members for who they are, regardless of how Rogue might feel about the situation. He had been through enough, had seen and heard enough, that it would have been difficult for any of them to sway his decision. He knew better than anyone that once Jongdae made up his mind, there was no turning back from that decision. It had been one of the reasons as to why he and Jongdae never got along when they first came together. Baekhyun felt that Jongdae’s firm insistence regarding particular matters was a rather close-minded avenue of thinking, and he could recall the many,  _ many  _ times that the two quarrelled because of it. Over the years, Baekhyun had grown to appreciate Jongdae’s one-track mind. However, Jongdae had also always been a walking contradiction. There was never a time where Jongdae didn’t have multiple plans for various types of missions and covert operations. He would have planned and thought out everything that could and couldn’t have gone wrong with a mission down to the tee, and he respected his versatility when it was time to get down to business. Anything else was uncompromisable, and Jongdae would have stood firm in his opinions. Baekhyun felt that perhaps Jongdae didn’t even realize the hypocrisy that sank deep in between his words and actions; Jongdae had not done or said anything to prove him wrong yet. 

“Well, whatever you all made smells good,” Kyungsoo praised from his computer across the room. 

Chanyeol and Sehun had shuffled into the room with a large stack of papers atop a clipboard in their hands. It was first thing in the morning and each of the ACE members seemed to be hard at work already. Baekhyun took note of how each of them had been performing one task or another, whether it was helping to cook, set the table, or working on legitimate work, they all found a way to keep themselves busy. 

The last thing Baekhyun expected to see was Minseok, who had ditched the formal uniform for casual wear instead. He could have put all of his money on the possibility that the ACE members lived their whole lives in their respective uniforms, considering that each of them wore distinctly different ones that were supposed to help differentiate who did what in their team. Or rather, who was more important. This was an aspect of their organization that Baekhyun could have cared less for, their prioritization of rank over commendable skill. 

The smell of the food that Yixing, Jongin, and Minseok had worked together to make waffed throughout the room, and Baekhyun could feel his mouth watering over the luxury that Rogue had been neglecting for the last several weeks. 

Chanyeol and Sehun never took their eyes off one another as the chairs scraped against the hardwood floor, and sat down while engaging in serious conversation. Baekhyun was slightly impressed at the awareness of the two men, one of which was reaching for the coffee pot that sat in the middle of the table and pouring himself a cup of coffee without breaking eye contact with his colleague. 

“Don’t mind them,” Kyungsoo warned, taking a seat next to the place where Baekhyun had planned on sitting. It seemed that this would be an inclusive breakfast gathering, but he wasn’t entire sure why this came off as a surprise to him. So, Baekhyun ended up settling for the seat in between Sehun and Kyungsoo. 

Jongdae had made his way around the table and sat in the chair directly across from him, but it also just so happened to be the seat next to Minseok, who was too busy scanning the contents of a tablet that was in his hands to even acknowledge Jongdae’s appearance. 

“What is going on?” Jongdae questioned, a genuine look mixed of confusion and curiosity lined his face.

Kyungsoo spooned a hefty serving of potatoes onto his plate before answering, “Those three have a meeting with some important individuals today, so they are all going over logistics, and making sure that they have all of their ‘i’s dotted and their ‘t’s crossed.”

Something that Baekhyun had noticed about Minseok, which may have genuinely concerned him, was that he was able to down a whole cup of coffee while it was still piping hot. He eyed Jongdae to subtly convey in question whether or not this sort of behavior was normal, but Jongdae just gave him a brief closed-lip smile in place of an answer.

“And you don’t have to attend the meeting with them?” Yixing chimed in.

Kyungsoo shook his head in disagreement, “This meeting is in regards to the designs for a new aircraft that the Captain wants to commission, which Chanyeol might very well be leading, and since I am a weapons specialist, my voice is not needed there.”

Of all the rumors he had ever heard about ACE over the years, Baekhyun had no idea that each member of their team had such specific roles. He just assumed that each of them did a little bit of everything, much like how Rogue did. Even though Baekhyun and Jongin’s specialties were in stealth and scouting, they could do much more than just blend into the shadows. Much like how Jongdae could do more than just hack his way through any server across the span of this galaxy.

“What kind of weapons do you design?” Jongin asked while shoving a spoonful of eggs into his mouth. 

Kyungsoo gulped down a mouthful of water before turning to Jongin, “As old fashion as it sounds, it is my job to design non-automatic weapons primarily. More specifically, to design weapons that best suit the user and their elemental power. For instance, I’ve designed and created a whole line of flame resistant weapons for Chanyeol to use for when we are caught in the midst of combat.”

“As a team, do you not believe in automatic weapons?” Yixing pressed.

“It’s not that we don’t believe in them, we do have automatic weapons, and have used automatic weapons many times in the past. However, we live up to our fullest potentials when we rely on our power. Although, it seems to be something completely unique to our respective team, because plenty of individuals from the organization, especially those who are in our military, tend to reach toward automatic weapons.”

“I guess our line of thinking is that if we have natural gifts that we are born with, why not use it?” Junmyeon interejected. 

Yixing nodded in understanding, “As a team, we have the same sort of attitude; however, some of us are more advantaged than others.”

And for whatever reason, this caught the attention of the busied ACE members.

“I’m sure you all know this by now,” Yixing prefaced, “but Jongdae’s power limits him the most out of all of us. Especially since we are a stealth group. He may be powerful,  _ very _ powerful, the thunder that follows him has exposed him more times than not. He’s the black sheep of our group in this regard. Baekhyun, Jongin, and I all have light related powers. They’re quiet, and can be very beneficial in a variety of situations; however, it means that the three of us have more experience in combat fighting because our powers have no harmful intent, especially mine. Jongdae has had the least combat experience.”

~

Minseok set the tablet down on the table as he listened to Yixing’s account. He considered his and Jongdae’s fight, and if Jongdae was the least capable of their group in hand to hand combat, then he could only imagine what sort of training the other three Rogue members had been through. He believed that Jongdae had a very similar fighting style to himself, but he wondered if this was only because he framed his combat skills around his lethal power. A vague desire to taste their raw strength sang in Minseok’s blood. He pushed away the craving and finished the food he had piled onto his plate. He turned to Chanyeol and Sehun to see that they had already scarfed down their food, and were already on their way out the doors.

“What the hell, guys,” Minseok complained, pushing his chair away, “Wait for me!”

Jongdae watched as Minseok frantically ran after the younger members before going back to eating his breakfast. He looked across the table at Baekhyun who still looked like he was in the midst of a dreamscape, yet what grabbed his attention wasn’t Baekhyun, but Kyungsoo.

“Kyungsoo,” Jongdae put his utensils down as Kyungsoo looked up from his own plate, “Are you training today? What’s with the gear?”

Kyungsoo briefly looked down to reassess the attire, “Oh, yeah. Chanyeol, Sehun, and I are going down under later after their meeting to do some sparring.”

“Sparring?” Jongin’s attention had been stolen away from the conversation he had been having Yixing as the word came from Kyungsoo’s mouth.

He nodded in response.

“Do you mind if we come?” Yixing offered.

Kyungsoo seemed to be weighing the leader’s words, and Jongdae suddenly feared what sort of confrontations would result from Rogue and ACE clashing in one-on-one’s. Kyungsoo chuckled and with a casual shrug of the shoulders, he agreed. 

“I think it’ll be interesting to see how your fighting styles differ from ours,” Kyungsoo mentioned, “We’ve seen Jongdae in action before; however, based on what you’ve said, I’d like to see more from all of you.”

Jongin smiled a childish grin as he stood to collect some of the empty, discarded plates from the table and set them into the sink. Jongdae knew that Jongin would be excited about finally being able to flex his muscles in a fight. Based on what Yixing had described to him just the day before, none of them have had any proper opportunities to train. They have been too preoccupied with the emotional turmoil and mayhem that came with attempting to keep their distance from Alpha. 

“Count me in,” Baekhyun chimed in. 

Jongdae could feel his heart do a backflip at the words. If there was anyone that Jongdae was worried for the most, it was Baekhyun. Baekhyun had a stellar reputation for being anti-ACE ever since he got caught up in Alpha’s cause. Not many people knew much about him other than that one glaring fact, as if it was the only thing that he wanted people to know about him. He never thought the day would come where his best friend would actually be given the opportunity to physically grapple with any of the ACE team members. He safely assumed that Minseok wouldn’t be participating, considering that he was supposed to be in several meetings that would most likely take up a greater majority of his day; Baekhyun would have jumped at any opportunity to have it out with Minseok, even if it was nothing more than pricking a strand of hair from his pretty little head.

A series of images flashed in Jongdae’s mind. Not only had his mind wandered to the fight he had with Minseok, but the many sparring matches that he faced against Baekhyun. Jongdae couldn’t recall whether or not he had ever even won in a fight against Baekhyun before. In Rogue, Baekhyun was their best one-on-one fighter, whether it be with or without weapons—although his power was weapon enough, despite all of the physical training that he had been forced to complete as per Alpha. He had never been exactly sure as to why Alpha didn’t want Jongdae to be trained in the same way that the other members. He acknowledged that he had a sharp mind, it was his greatest asset— _ Alpha _ ’s greatest asset—but it also would have been wrong to say that Jongdae wasn’t powerful. He was a rare elementalist. Being able to find someone who could control, bend, and master lightning in the same way that Jongdae had learned to was near impossible. Yet, Alpha’s most probable reason for keeping him away from the field had been the thunder, because you couldn’t have lightning without thunder. The roar of that very thunder served a greater risk than any sort of ample opportunity for success. 

Baekhyun was the thunder to Jongdae’s lightning. Wherever Jongdae went, Baekhyun would surely follow. An impenetrable and unspoken promise to the other that they would be infinitely connected. And Baekhyun always kept his promises. Yet, instead of feeling relieved, a well of anxiety had filled to its brim, ready to spill over at any waking moment. 

~

It came across as a shock to Jongdae when Minseok and Junmyeon walked through the door with the two taller members of ACE. 

Baekhyun and Jongin were still fooling around in the ever-changing obstacle course, which they had been exploring for the last twenty minutes or so, when Sehun plopped down next to Yixing on the floorboard. 

“How did the meeting go?” Kyungsoo asked to no one in particular as he readjusted the straps of his harness. 

Chanyeol walked off in the direction of the lockers that lined the back wall, ignoring Kyungsoo’s questions all together. Sehun was swapping out his dress shoes for the combat boots that Jongdae didn’t realize he had been holding when they first walked in, “It was alright, we didn’t get the original design that we wanted, but the plans for a new aircraft has been approved nonetheless.” 

Kyungsoo made an apologetic face, “No compromise could have been made?”

Sehun shook his head, which jostled a few strands of his slicked-back hair from their place, “We tried. If I’m being honest, Chanyeol nor I had an issue with the exterior design of the blueprints the Captain had chosen, but there were some desired features from the plans we both prefered that would make all of our lives a lot easier. But, what’s done is done. All we can do now is get to work when the parts arrive.” 

Chanyeol had rejoined their group with a stack full of training gear in hand, setting it directly in front of Jongdae and Yixing, “These are for the four of you. I asked the tailors to put them together as quickly as they possibly could when they took your measurements yesterday.”

Jongdae offered a nod and gentle smile of gratitude in Chanyeol’s direction. Yixing fingered through the stack until he found the uniform that he assumed was his according to the size. Jongdae recognized the familiar look of confusion that crossed Yixing’s features when he unfolded the harness in front of him.

“How…” Yixing eyed the harness and then looked to Jongdae in a desperate cry for help. 

Jongdae chuckled and nodded in acknowledgement, “Don’t worry, I’ll help you.”

At the very same moment, Jongin and Baekhyun had collapsed just outside the perimeter of where the remaining members had been circled up. Jongdae could feel the side of Baekhyun’s rib cage poking at the lower section of his spine, his breaths shallow and heavy from the obstacle course. Jongdae turned slightly to get a better look at Baekhyun, who was far beyond out of shape. He rested his hand on Baekhyun’s chest and let it linger just slightly below the heart. His fingers lightly stroked the hammering, burning skin that pulsed between his hand and Baekhyun’s thin shirt. Baekhyun lifted his tired hand just enough for his fingers to graze Jongdae’s wrist. His skin was hot from navigating the obstacle course, not only that but it was sticky with the faint presence of beading sweat that had barely started to form. Generally, it didn’t take much for Baekhyun to sweat, but he didn’t sweat as much as someone like Chanyeol. 

Yixing tossed each of the panting men their own set of training gear and Jongdae couldn’t help but laugh when the harness whipped Baekhyun in the side of the face. He bit his lip to withhold the remainder of the laugh when Baekhyun shot him the most wicked side eye he might have ever seen. 

Jongdae clutched the gear close to his chest as she stood from the mobile springboards of the sparring ring, and started to make his way behind one of the walls of the obstacle course to change when Baekhyun fell in step with him. They had been comfortable changing in front of one another for a considerable amount of time. Jongdae had seen his fair share of... _ skin _ ...in the last several years with Baekhyun, and at this point, nothing could surprise him. Baekhyun ripped his shirt clean over his head in one swift movement and went to replace it with the white tee that had been sewn to fit him. In between the seconds that it took for him to throw the shirt over his head, Jongdae noticed just how much weight Baekhyun had lost in the last several weeks. His muscles were still toned enough, but there was no hiding the ribs that were now outline there. He could feel a stab of pain pass through his heart at the sight. He pushed the thought away for a different time as he pulled the tight black leggings over his thighs. Once both of them were done changing, save for the harnesses, they regrouped with the remaining EX’ACT members in the ring, which had been repaired since the last time Jongdae had seen it. 

Minseok was helping Yixing with the complex harness, explaining how to fasten the joints and buckles as he secured them on Yixing’s body. Jongdae could see Yixing’s brain turning at the process, but still managed to keep the mental notes organized in that well-kept brain of his. Jongin was off to the side with Kyungsoo, who was also helping to clip and pull the harness into place. Sehun and Chanyeol stood in front of him, mimicking the process for Jongin to see, and as a visual learner, Jongdae was sure that he appreciated it. 

Baekhyun cleared his throat and let the harness dangle in his hand, not entirely sure where to even begin. Even though Jongdae had only gone through the process once, he felt confident enough in being able to secure Baekhyun in his harness. Jongdae took the harness from Baekhyun’s extended hand, and loosened the belt-like strap that secured the harness to the body, slipping it over Baekhyun’s head and settling it across his broad, slim shoulders. He circled around to tighten the belt loop around Baekhyun’s waist, who had been caught off guard by the sudden pressure that now folded his stomach inward. Jongdae could feel himself getting dizzy as he stepped back and forth a variety of times to fit the harness properly on Baekhyun’s body—which he did, much to his amazement.

“Do you think you might be able to follow the same steps and get the harness on for me?” Jongdae pulled his harness from the floor and started releasing various strap slides and buckles. He pulled the harness through his arms and over his head, and when he finally as the leather straps sitting comfortable on his body, he turned to Baekhyun for assistance. 

Baekhyun took a moment recall all of the steps, and began fumbling with the straps and buckles that hung loose around Jongdae’s chest and shoulders. He could feel a tight frustration curling inside of him whenever the straps would form to his body, only to loosen once more after letting go. Just as he was about to make another attempt, a rogue hand reached in between them and started fastening the straps and buckles at impressive speeds. 

Baekhyun took a step back to see Kim Minseok fingering and tightening the straps on the front most part of the harness. A calm rage was building in his veins as Minseok’s hands glided across the plains of Jongdae’s chest, his shoulder blades, and then his lower back. 

Something short of a smirk crept up onto the corners of Jongdae’s mouth, “You’re not going to ask me to take my shirt off this time, are you?”

Minseok loosed a brief breath, it wasn’t a chuckle, but Baekhyun gleaned that it was supposed to be one, “If that is your preference, but I’ll warn you, the harness isn’t as comfortable without it. I know from first-hand experience.”

Baekhyun noticed Jongdae’s Adam’s apple bob at the words. The words seemed to send him into a flustered frenzy, he did several double takes as he attempted to crane his neck to get a better look at the leader, who was doing everything he could to stay out of Jongdae’s field of vision as he fiddled with the last of the straps. 

It took everything in Baekhyun not to tear Minseok’s fingers from Jongdae’s body, they seemed to crawl and brush against all of the tones muscles that Baekhyun deemed forbidden to anyone who wasn’t in Rogue. Any wrong move toward Jongdae, and Baekhyun would have ensured that whoever even  _ looked _ at Jongdae the wrong way would answer for their wrong doings. And the way that Kim Minseok was looking at Jongdae lit Baekhyun’s blood on fire. His muscles and spirit begged for a fight, to wrap his slim fingers around—

“Baekhyun?” 

Jongdae’s rich voice dragged him from the millions of thoughts that swarmed his mind. 

“They’re going to do a coin toss to decide who goes first,” Jongdae explained, “But since there are so many of us this time around, they’re willing to take volunteers.”

There was no hesitation, no question as to what he needed to do, “Then I’m going first…”

Jongdae was caught off guard by Baekhyun’s sudden forthcomingness, and he could feel the tension rising in between him and everyone else. Jongdae glanced across the room at Minseok who looked like a cat stalking its prey, and Jongdae wasn’t entirely sure what had overcome him when he stepped in the middle of ring, “Then I’ll be going first as well.”

“ _ What _ ?” Kyungsoo and Jongin exclaimed in unison.

Jongdae nodded gripping the leather ropes that boarded the perimeter, pushing himself off towards the center. No one made move to challenge Jongdae’s wishes and pushed to the outer edge of the ring just beyond the ropes.

And then it was just him and Baekhyun.

“What are you doing, Jongdae?” Baekhyun’s voice was playful, the slip of the slightly boastful attitude lingered beneath the faux concern that was laced in his features.

Jongdae rolled his neck, eyeing Baekhyun as he strutted to the the other side of the ring across from him, “Who would make a better sparring partner than me?”

Baekhyun laughed an unamused laugh, “Anyone would make a better sparring partner than you, Dae. Even I need a challenge sometimes.”

Kyungsoo’s cough echoes around the room, slicing right through their playful bantering, “With or without powers?”

“Oh, don’t worry about formalities, Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun wiped his hands on the form-fitting pants, which helped to accentuate those deceivingly muscular thighs, “We do things differently in Rogue.”

Jongdae furrowed his eyebrows, “You don’t mean—”

“I do.”

Jongdae gulped at the insinuation, but nodded in acceptance, knowing that Baekhyun wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“Fine,” Jongdae conceded, “We’ll do things your way.”

Jongdae looked to Baekhyun as he walked over to where the clothes he had been wearing earlier were discarded in a pile next to Yixing. Yixing caught Jongdae’s hand and squeezed it in encouragement, before letting Jongdae stalk back over to where Baekhyun stood, shirt in hand.

A feline grin spread across Baekhyun’s face, and suddenly, anyone and everyone who stood beyond the ropes disappeared without even so much as a blink of the eye.

“Looks like it’s just you and me,” Baekhyun whispered, his body slowly faded into nothingness as he allowed his ability to take center stage. 

Jongdae brought the shirt to his eyes and knotted it until he could seen nothing but darkness. 

It had been a considerable amount of time since Baekhyun and Jongdae had fought with one another. No matter how many times the two fought, the end result was always the same. There was never a time where Jongdae came out on top, and he could openly admit that Baekhyun was more skilled than him, in more ways than one, and he had a feeling that this fight would not be so different from the others. 

When they were first brought together, the team bonding activities were handled by Jongin, and naturally, they spent a considerable amount of time juggling different combat training exercises: one-on-one sparring, hunting each other as duos, and every-man-for-himself type scenarios. Since their team was constantly moving from place to place, sparring had been the easiest and most accessible way to bond with one another, at least that is what Jongin seemed to believe. In many ways, he was right. Not only did the secondhand embarrassment from someone’s loss provide for a good laugh, but the sessions helped them learn each other’s fighting styles individually. However, it didn’t take long for Baekhyun to become bored with the methods that they had been using.

It was probably after the second or the third time of Jongdae getting his ass handed to him when Baekhyun decided that it was time for them to spice things up. From the start, the combat training had always been fist-to-fist. No powers. Until Baekhyun decided it would beneficial for the four of them to flex their natural powers in training. It was an opportunity for each of them to stretch the muscles that lingered far beneath the actual muscle, the strategies that they had been taught upon joining Alpha’s cause. At first, Jongdae found this to be beneficial for him, considering that he didn’t have the same sort of physical training that the other Rogue members had received, but he knew that his lightning would speak miles for what he was more than capable of. It was the only thing he had to one up the rest of them. 

Baekhyun claimed that the lightning was making it too easy for Jongdae to track his every movement, even when he was invisible. The lightning would bend and fold to contour the outlines of the Baekhyun’s invisible frame, thus giving away his position every time. So, excluding Jongdae, Rogue had unanimously decided to test and heighten all of his senses, other than sight. From that day forward, Jongdae trained and learned to fight with a blindfold.

“What the hell is going on?” Minseok bit down on his lip and turned to Yixing.

Yixing let out a small chuckle before patting the spot on the ground next to him, gesturing for Minseok to take a seat, and so he did.

“As I mentioned earlier, Jongdae has always been the most limited out of all of us. So, early on in our training, we decided as a group that it would be a lot more beneficial for him to develop the capabilities of each of his senses. Particularly those of touch and sound. Ever since that day, Jongdae has always fought with a blindfold. You’ll see here in a moment how that brilliant mind of his works even though he has been limited by one of his five senses, arguably the most important.”

It was just another item added to the long list of things, things that were starting to stack up, that intrigued Minseok about Kim Jongdae. He eyed Jongdae carefully as he stood alone, but not, in that ring. He seemed to be on the prowl, keenly aware of his surroundings even though he was unable to see them. It had taken Minseok by surprise when Baekhyun disappeared before his very eyes, even though he knew what Baekhyun was capable with a power like that. Light manipulation was one of the rarest forms of elemental power to ever exist, and for a man as young as Baekhyun to have conquered the control and patience that was required to cloak oneself in the contours and folds of time and space made Minseok feel conflicted about whether or not he felt impressed or if he felt uneasy. 

Jongdae had taken up a defensive pose, “Baekhyun, those shields better be up.”

Baekhyun’s chuckled came from the behind him to the right, “Oh, they are.”

“ _ Perfect _ ,” Jongdae grinned. 

Jongdae could feel his lightning crawling up his arms, circling and enveloping the smooth skin of his arms, charging him with not even a drop from a larger well of power that dwelled in his soul. That very power filled Jongdae’s veins with a fire so hot he thought that he might have been lit aflame. The adrenaline pulsing throughout his body threatened to leak into the atmosphere around them. 

“Not yet, Jongdae, not yet,” Minseok overheard Yixing chanting to himself.

Jongdae’s lightning branched out from his arms and engulfed the entirety of his toned chest, but it didn’t stop there. It traced and outlined the fine lines of his waist, his spine, his legs, everything. 

“ _ Now _ ,” Yixing leaned forward when the world slipped from his mouth. It was hardly audible, it was more so a breath than it was a whisper. 

“You’re right, Baekhyun. It  _ is _ just you and me now,” And then Jongdae exploded. 

A brief, bright flash of red light filled the room around them, and when Minseok’s eyes adjusted to the blinding light, he gazed in awe at the blood red lightning that was suspended all around Jongdae and Baekhyun. Even though Baekhyun was completely transparent, Minseok could make out his general outline thanks to the lightning that revealed his position.

Jongdae could hear the buzz and hum of his lightning around him, a rolling thunder roared in his ears moments later. 

Baekhyun used the blaring thunder as a cover for him to sprint towards Jongdae as fast as he possibly could, using the built-up momentum to kick himself up off of the floorboards and sent Jongdae flying after driving a roundhouse kick into his side. 

Jongdae smacked  _ hard _ against the solid shield that held them in. It took him several seconds for him to find his footing, even in the darkness that smothered his vision he could see the white and black dots that speckled his vision. He took next to no time to assess his lightning for any disturbances, for Baekhyun, before Baekhyun was on him once again. He had grabbed him by the throat and swept him up off of his feet, dragging him up the invisible wall. Jongdae struggled against Baekhyun’s restricting grip. He swung his legs forward to kick Baekhyun in the chest, which sent him tumbling as Jongdae crashed against the floor. 

Another roll of thunder echoed around them. Jongdae wasn’t gullible enough to realize that Baekhyun would try to use the loud rolling noise as cover, and the disturbance he felt in his electrical field was confirmed when his hand clamped down on Baekhyun’s arm. He twisted Baekhyun’s arm several times until his arm felt like a tangled mess against his back, and Jongdae used the opportunity to slam Baekhyun’s face against the floor. A sound of pain escaped Baekhyun’s lips as Jongdae pushed Baekhyun’s twisted arm further and further up his back. 

The Rogue members never cared about whether or not they caused breaks in another person’s bones because they knew that Yixing would be there to help correct the injury. If anything, it added to the victory.

“You’re becoming predictable, Baek,” Jongdae taunted.

Baekhyun used his free arm to knock Jongdae off of him, “Not as predictable as you.”

Jongdae rubbed his hands together and could feel the electric bolts expand in the palms of his hands, and then loosed a breath, “Then come and get me.”

Baekhyun smirked and then threw himself hard into another running start toward Jongdae, whose thunder roared even louder than it had before, and before he was able to discern anything else, Jongdae’s hands were on him, and not in the ways that he desired. He gritted his teeth to keep from unleashing a blood curdling scream from the contact of Jongdae’s smoldering hands on his body. One hand was pressed up against the side of his neck, and the other was slipping in between the reigns of his harness. 

The lightning  _ burned _ . The first time Baekhyun had ever been struck by Jongdae’s lightning, he expected it to boil his veins. Instead, he was met with a cold front so severe that he thought he was trekking through a Neptunian snow tundra in nothing more than his undergarments.

A devilish smile crept onto Jongdae’s face, and for the first time in a long time, Baekhyun felt his body run cold in something just beneath fear. The lightning that danced in his hand ceased and he could feel Baekhyun’s body go limp in relief. He could hear the distinct sound of Baekhyun panting in an attempt to catch his breath. He dared to release his grip on the harness for half of a second, just enough time for him to knock Baekhyun off of his feet. The thud from the impact ricocheted off of the shield. Without any sort of hesitation, Jongdae slipped his fingers under the harness straps once more and yanked Baekhyun from the floor. He launched Baekhyun across the ring and against the opposing wall of the shield in one swift movement. 

Minseok almost couldn’t believe what he was seeing, or... _ not _ seeing. Jongdae had been able to predict each of Baekhyun’s movements, and then deflect any sort of attack that he had been planning. After Jongdae had sent Baekhyun flying across the ring, Baekhyun had unveiled himself. He wasn’t entirely sure how the light manipulation worked, considering that he was a water-based elemental, but the more he saw Baekhyun in action, the more and more his curiosity peaked. 

What Minseok hadn’t expected, or anyone for that matter, was Jongdae ripping the blindfold from his face. 

“We do things my way now,” There was a thick layer of arrogance in Jongdae’s voice.

And before Minseok could turn to see how Yixing or Jongin were reacting to his behavior, the blood red lightning that had defined Jongdae for so long turned a deep vantablack. 

“Oh no...” Jongin took several steps closer to the ring.

“Jongdae?” Baekhyun’s face said it all. The terror that ensued there was more than apparent. 

Minseok pressed himself up against the glass-like barrier that separated him from Baekhyun and Jongdae. Whatever was going on with Jongdae, even Minseok had enough sense to know that something wasn’t right. Because the man that stood before them all was not Jongdae, but just a shell of the man who was supposed to be there. 

Minseok rounded the ring just enough for him to get a better look at Jongdae’s face. It was completely and utterly empty. A man who had always been so full of life and curiosity, now hollowed out by whatever had overtaken him.

He needed to get to Jongdae.

The desperation that pooled into Minseok’s blood called for him to claw and tear at that barrier until it fell away, until his hands were bloodied and bruised, but he willed himself to resist. Not here, not now. 

The black lightning danced and hummed in the space between Baekhyun and Jongdae, and now that the blindfold was off and Baekhyun’s position compromised, Jongdae swallowed the lightning that was suspended around them. The humming had come to a halt for a brief second, and in the next, a single bolt came crashing down in between the two men. The thunder that came after was so loud that it caused the room to shake.

“We need to get him out of there,  _ NOW _ ,” Yixing ordered.

“What the hell is going on?” Kyungsoo demanded.

“It’s as I said,” Yixing began. Jongdae sent down another bolt, “We all have our limitations. You all know that for yourselves, and these limitations come in various forms. For Jongdae, it’s not just the thunder that trails him wherever he goes, but is rooting in  _ how much _ of his power he uses and for how long.”

“What—what do you mean?” Sehun questioned. 

“It means that when Jongdae exerts too much, whether it be energy or emotion, he becomes  _ that _ empty shell that you are seeing right now. The lightning...it hallows him out until he’s nothing more than a mindless puppet, being pulled by the strings of his own lightning. He acts without thinking, and worst of all, he doesn’t remember any of it after the deeds are done.”

“He’s burning himself out to the point of a black out,” Jongin clarified.

Minseok turned to face the others, “What is going on with his lightning? Why is it... _ black _ ?”

Yixing could offer nothing more than a shrug, “It’s something that we do not understand ourselves. We assume it has something to do with the lineage of his family, but none of us know anything about it. He comes from the lightning planet, Saturn. Even there, being able to wield  _ and _ master lightning the way he has is rare.”

Minseok turned back to where Baekhyun and Jongdae were now in the midst of hand-to-hand combat. 

Jongdae willed every cell in his body to gather the energy he needed to flip Baekhyun, knocking him clean onto his back. He was now straddling Baekhyun’s hips, pinning his wrists to the floor with his knees. He used the ends of his elbows to jab Baekhyun several times in the chest, in the ribcage, before digging his fingers into Baekhyun’s dark hair. He released the grip on Baekhyun’s wrists and pulled him up by the hair. 

Baekhyun was abundantly aware of how close they were to one another. The closeness was not what bothered him, and neither was the fact that Jongdae was still straddling this lap. He was more concerned about the shallow breaths that escaped Jongdae’s lips against his neck, which was helping to dry the sweat that had been running along it. They hadn’t been fighting for long, but Baekhyun was already exhausted, and he could only imagine what the burn out was doing to Jongdae’s body. The fighting, the amount of power he had exerted, and the fear that he had felt for his best friend, all had become factors that would end in a muscle aching fatigue. 

He wasn’t entirely sure what was different about this training session, but Jongdae had transformed in a way that was completely foreign to all of them. Whoever had been standing before him just moments ago was not his best friend, the man that he had grown to love and care for. He had been eradicated, expelled by whatever demons lingered beneath his thick skin and played with his body like it was nothing more than a tool to be used at its convenience. 

It was Baekhyun’s first defeat, and he would never regret losing to Jongdae in this way. His best friend was one of the most powerful beings in this universe, probably even more powerful than some of the selfish and heartless leaders than ruled this galaxy, and it was all thanks to some parasite that had grown inside of Jongdae’s soul. The lightning. It had always done him more harm than it did good, and it was a curse that Baekhyun wished the gods would rip away. It would have been a blessing, a mercy, that he wished he could bestow upon him, but he knew there was nothing he could do to save him from the fate that would swallow him whole if he continued to push his limits like this.

“You win, Jongdae,” Baekhyun breathed, “You win.”

Baekhyun could barely get the words out of his mouth before Jongdae’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, his body going limp in his lap. He forced himself into a proper sitting position and wrapped his arms around his best friend to help support Jongdae’s exhausted body. The words had not been for his best friend, but for the monster that had used his body for its own selfish desires. It was now his responsibility, his  _ duty _ as Jongdae’s other half, to patch up the rips and tears that were made in Jongdae’s soul, ones that the lightning had gouged out, with pieces of his own.

“I got you, Dae,” Baekhyun buried his tear streaked face in his neck, “I got you. I’m not going anywhere.”


	23. CHAPTER 23: TEAM EX'ACT

Baekhyun received no help from either Yixing or Jongin in helping him move Jongdae upstairs. They had ducked out of the training room minutes after Baekhyun had confirmed that Jongdae was going to be alright. They probably thought they were giving Baekhyun some space to console his unconscious friend, but in actually they were just escaping the challenge of lifting a dead weight. Baekhyun could feel his chest tighten at the sight of Minseok slowly climbing through the ropes, taking several steps closer to where he and Jongdae were still entangled. He stopped far off enough for Baekhyun to feel somewhat at ease. He was surprised to see the usual calm and collected expression had been wiped from his face, replaced by pure and unfiltered worry.

Baekhyun took a deep breath as he shifted, cradling Jongdae’s head in the crook of his neck, and swallowed his pride for the sake of the person he cared for the most, “You can come closer.”

Minseok shook his head, “I—”

“Don’t do this,” Baekhyun’s voice turned cold, “Not now. I know that Jongdae wouldn’t want either of us to fight, considering that he’s grown awfully attached to you for whatever reason. I just need to know that he isn’t doing the wrong thing by trusting you.”

Minseok couldn’t even comprehend that he and Baekhyun were even exchanging words in the first place, let alone concerning the conversation topic of Jongdae. His eyes fell away from Baekhyun and moved to Jongdae who was hunched over Baekhyun’s body. He knew that he would feel the ache from it whenever he woke up. He took several more steps in order to close the distance between himself and them, and extended an arm out of Baekhyun, “Let me help you get him upstairs into a bed, I don’t think either of us would want him to wake up griping and complaining about how badly his back hurts.”

For half of a second, a look of hesitation crossed Baekhyun’s features, but it passed with the blink of an eye. He slipped a hand around Jongdae’s waist as a means of support and reached for Minseok’s extended hand. It took several maneuvers for the two of them to get Jongdae up from the floor, but they finally managed to get one arm wrapped around Minseok and the other wrapped around Baekhyun. With the sparring ring being roped off from all sides, it had been even more of a struggle for the two of them to get Jongdae out. The sheer difficulty of the task has Minseok reconsidering the whole floor plan for their training room. 

Nearly fifteen minutes had passed by the time the three of them managed to catch an elevator up to Minseok and Kyungsoo’s bedroom. Jongdae nor Baekhyun spoke another word to one another as they carefully set Jongdae underneath the blankets of Minseok’s bed. 

Minseok let Baekhyun finish tucking Jongdae into the sheets without looking back. He made his way over to the sink where all of the dishes from their mid-morning breakfast had stacked up, and rolled his eyes at the mess that had been left behind for him to take care of. He flicked on the faucet, giving it enough time to gradually build from cold to hot water, and grabbed a fresh sponge from the overhead cupboard. When the water was finally hot enough, he went to work scrubbing away all of the food particles and crumbs that had dried down onto the plates. His mind wandered to Jongdae’s lifeless, empty expression from the fight that had embedded itself in his mind. He could feel his heart squeeze at the image that wouldn’t budge, no matter how much he tried to push it away. He had never been more concerned for a person in his life, save for Sehun. 

He wanted to banish the feelings that had surfaced in his mind, in his heart, as far as he possibly could. Yet, even the thought of blocking those rising feelings and concerns made Minseok’s heart ache with a strong sense of melancholy. 

“Would you like a hand with that?” 

Minseok’s head whipped in the direction of where Baekhyun had been leaning up against the kitchen dining table. He swallowed back his desired answer and threw a towel in Baekhyun’s direction, “I’ll wash, you dry.”

Baekhyun forced an awkward smile onto his face and started drying the dishes that Minseok had already scrubbed and cleaned. They were quiet for quite some time, and it wasn’t until they were nearly done with the dishes that Baekhyun finally spoke up.

“Why did you take him?”

It was a question that Minseok hadn’t been prepared to answer, and he knew that he’d have to be careful answering considering that the person asking was not just some other person. It was Jongdae’s person. 

“The order didn’t come from me,” Minseok confessed. “It was never my intention to take him from that conference room that day.”

Baekhyun froze in place as he contemplated Minseok’s words.

“My second-in-command, Junmyeon, he thought that if we would have let Jongdae go that day, he would have gotten away with confidential information regarding the lack of progress we had made with Alpha on that day. He had heard and seen too much. Not only that, but prior to the negotiations, the Captain had given me a classified operations card with our mission details on it. Included in the details of that card was all of you.  _ Rogue _ . We were told to look into each of you, he never expanded on what we were supposed to be looking for, or why were were supposed to be looking for that information, but to be cautious of your motives, especially since your group was affiliated with the pirates band.”

Minseok handed Baekhyun another plate, “He knew that each of you fit one another like perfect puzzle pieces that arranged to form one of the most formidable stealth operative groups in this system. It’s my assumption that the Captain was worried that your group was Alpha’s secret weapon that he was waiting to unleash on the organization. Yet, it seems that your group is just as disposable as any other person who fucks up the overall grand agenda that Alpha has crafted for this galaxy.”

Baekhyun couldn’t refute the latter comment, he knew that Minseok was right. Alpha had never been the forgiving kind, he would sacrifice what he must in order to benefit the cause, because losing one life—losing four lives—was a much better alternative than risking millions, trillions, and it was a price that he was more than forthcoming to pay. 

“And what of Jongdae?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I take it that you don’t go around embracing just anyone who is associated with what you all refer to as the pirates band. So, what makes Jongdae different for you?”

Minseok finished scrubbing the last of the dishes, drying his hands off with one of the free towels that dangled over the drying rack. He could feel the events of the day starting to weigh down on him: the tiresome meetings, the stress that stemmed from the fight between Baekhyun and Jongdae, Jongdae’s collapse. The fatigue was starting to settle deep in his bones, and he was grateful that someone (most likely Kyungsoo) had put on a pot of coffee. Minseok reached into one of the overhead cupboards for a mug and looked back to where Baekhyun had finished drying the dishware. 

“Coffee?” Minseok pulled an extra mug, raising it in Baekhyun’s general direction. 

It took Baekhyun a moment to designate a response, but he nodded nonetheless. Minseok poured each of them a cup and set them down atop the dining table. They sat across from one another, and there was brief moment of silence.

Minseok took a deep breath, “The information that I am about to relay to you is information that I have never recited to even the ACE members. I trust you to keep the information a secret.”

“If that is true, then why are you telling me? Someone you hardly even trust?”

Minseok himself wasn’t able to fully comprehend why he was doing all of this, why he was allowing himself to unveil the truth to someone who is nothing more than a mere stranger, but he needed Baekhyun to trust him, even if he couldn’t trust Baekhyun.

“Many years ago, I swore to myself that I would never form a close relationship with anyone ever again. At the time, I genuinely believed that was the sort of punishment I deserved for letting a horrible thing happen to someone I cared so deeply about.  _ Jongdae _ —he reminds me of  _ that _ someone that I used to know...from long before now. It almost feels like all of that was another lifetime ago. I know deep in my heart that it’s not right for me to try to seek out the similarities or differences between the two of them, because there is nothing to compare. Yet, I cannot help but feel a similar, vague sense of joy whenever I am in Jongdae’s presence. The two of them may come from extremely different worlds, ones that could never touch one another, but they evoke the same feelings from within me.”

Baekhyun was practically speechless at the outpour of Minseok’s thoughts. He could feel the internal conflict stirring in the middle of his chest as he took a large gulp of his lukewarm coffee.

“How did you and this other person meet?” Baekhyun pressed further. 

Minseok took a sip of his coffee and placed it down on the table, resting both hands on either side of the cup, “We were forced together. Back then I was doing my own sort of solo work. He and I had been assigned the same mission. It was the first time that either of us had worked with a partner of any kind.”

“So...what happened? Where is that man now?”

Minseok’s Adam’s apple tugged up and down his throat before meeting Baekhyun’s curious gaze, “He’s dead.”

Baekhyun felt like someone had dropped a heavy weight on his shoulders. The weight of this secret, it was no longer a burden that Minseok had to bare on his own anymore, he had split the responsibility by sharing it with him. 

“I—Minseok…” 

He had fought and struggled to find the right words,  _ any _ words. He hadn’t meant to be insensitive either when the question fell from his mouth, “How?”

Minseok hadn’t even flinched. He took another large swig of his coffee, exposing and revealing the smooth plains of his neck, his Adam’s apple sweeping up and down his throat in large strides. He set the empty cup down on the table and pushed it away.

“We were ambushed,” Minseok admitted defeatedly, “We thought we had everything under control, even though we were severely outnumbered. It was two to six, realistically it was nothing we couldn’t handle, but we had tried our luck. We had split the odds in half, I took three, he took three, and I had dispatched my men first. I only had one weapon on me, and he had a few but it just didn’t seem like enough for the both us to be able to take out six fully armed assassins. Our overarching goal was for one of us to reach a weapons arsonal that we carried around with us from place to place, and since I was the closest, it was up to me. I had barely enough time to knot an arrow in my bow when my partner had been overtaken by one of the men who I presumed dead…”

Baekhyun noticed that Minseok was beginning to lose his composure, his words started to pick up in speed, and his voice was starting to wobble. Baekhyun folded his arms and leaned against the table, “Minseok, you don’t need to say anymore, it’s okay.”

He could only imagine how painful it was for him to recall the memory that he most likely spent many years trying to block out. A rogue tear fell from the corner of Minseok’s eye, and Baekhyun could tell that he was trying to play it off like nothing had happened. 

_ Take the shot, Minseok. _

The words rang through Minseok’s mind, so clear that it were as if Luhan was standing across the room from him. The pain that he felt in his heart was enough for him to flinch, he pulled his hand up to his chest, massaging the spot in hopes that the ache would fade. Suddenly, Minseok was sucked into the depth of his mind, and his senses had become overwhelmed from the scene replayed over and over again. The dreaded thuds that echoed in Minseok’s ears all of those years ago haunted him.

“It was my fault,” Minseok confessed. He didn’t have enough lingering pride to wipe the tears away, to hide from Baekhyun’s prying eyes, “If I had just confirmed that the man was dead, or if I had reached the arsenal faster, he wouldn’t have died.”

Baekhyun shook his head, “There’s nothing you could have done, Minseok. Sometimes—sometimes fate takes those people who are important to us because that’s how our stories were written. Unfortunately, death...it doesn’t discriminate. It doesn’t care whether you’re a child, a parent, a leader, a slave. It is the only thing in this world that is definite. We do not get to decide how and when we die, it just comes.”

Minseok dragged his eyes from his hands and brought them to Baekhyun’s, gaze piercing, “Put yourself in my shoes, Baekhyun. If it had been you, if it had been  _ Jongdae _ ...would you be saying the same thing?”

Baekhyun was stunned by Minseok’s words, the iciness that had crept in between his muscles and evoked a chill that travel up his spine. The thought of even losing Jongdae made Baekhyun’s bones ache, he had spent the last several weeks believing that his best friend was gone, and it wasn’t until he caught that glimpse of him on Pluto that the gods had bestowed the most precious gift to him. He had clung desperately to the possibility that Jongdae was alive but Minseok had no such hope, nothing to hold onto. He couldn’t even  _ begin _ to imagine it. His best friend was safe,  _ alive _ . He dragged his eyes to the bed where Jongdae was fast asleep, and he knew that his eyes lingered a moment too long when he noticed Minseok following his eyes in that direction. 

“We are all fighting for something, Baekhyun,” Minseok claimed, he pushed his chair back, but didn’t get up, “For some of us, it’s for honor. For some, it’s glory. Power. Purpose. For others...it’s for security. Happiness.  _ Love _ .”

Minseok cleared his throat and stood from the chair, stretching his arms above his head before reaching for the discarded coffee mugs, “But, you know that all too well, don’t you?”

He stalked off before Baekhyun could even find the right words to respond. He could hear him set the mugs in the sink, not even bothering to rinse or clean them. Baekhyun turned to face Minseok once more, but he was already making his way through the automated doors and leaving him to ponder the truth that hung in the air.

~

It hadn’t been long after Minseok had trekked out of the room when Baekhyun had moved from the dining table to the couch that was closest to the foot of Minseok’s bed. 

He had suddenly felt transparent. They had been here for less than two days and Minseok had already seen right through him, had seen the intentions that had been planted in the deepest parts of his heart long ago. It was those feelings that threw his life in an unexpected direction, and as much as he tried to resist what had continued to grow day after day for the sake of what he was assigned to do, he couldn’t help by fall under this cursed spell.

He spent much of the following hour turning Minseok’s words over and over in his mind. His story. The loss of his friend was explanation enough for Minseok’s cold and off-putting behavior. He couldn’t even comprehend losing Jongdae, especially at the hand of some person that neither of them knew. And Minseok had blamed himself. Regardless of how much Baekhyun couldn’t stand being in Minseok’s presence, he had enough heart to know what it felt like to live with that sort of guilt. The guilt that was rooted in situations that no one could ever have any control over, and he has been carrying that guilt around with him for so long. All of that anger and sadness, the antagonizing guilt, turned him into an emotionless shell of a human being, and for whatever reason, Baekhyun could feel a strong sense of sympathy rising in his chest for him. 

Baekhyun jumped at the gentle feeling of a hand playing with the back of his hair. He sprang from the couch and turned to see Jongdae who was alarmed by his sudden, knee-jerk reaction. 

Jongdae allowed a hesitant chuckle to pass through his lips, “What’s got you so on edge? Are you okay?”

Baekhyun breathed a sigh of relief before plopping back down onto the oversized couch, Jongdae took up the seat directly next to him, “It’s nothing, I’m just a little tired that’s all.”

Jongdae’s eyebrows furrowed in concern as his wicked hand found its place in Baekhyun’s hair once more. The touch itself was arguably the most soothing force in the entire universe, it could put him to sleep, ease him, in a matter of seconds, but he willed himself to keep his eyes open. He did what he could to avoid leaning into Jongdae’s touch, and to concentrate on the truth that lingered in the back of his mind. 

“Are you sure that’s all that is bothering you?” Jongdae pondered allowed, his voice nothing more than a mere whisper. His hot breath grazed the side of his neck, which made Baekhyun feel weak in more places than just the knees. 

Jongdae was using a single finger to drag and massage the spot on the nape of his neck, and all he wanted to do was fall into the deepest sleep that was physically possible. He pulled away from Jongdae’s touch, “How long have you been awake?”

Jongdae’s hand fell into his lap, all the while using his other hand to comb through his disheveled hair, “I’ve been awake for a while.”

“Define a while.”

Jongdae flashed that cursed toothy smile in his direction, knowing that Baekhyun already knew the answer, “I’ve been awake ever since you and Minseok had your talk earlier.”

He could feel his blood running cold, he could only have hoped that Jongdae hadn’t been paying close enough attention to have caught what Minseok had said to him before leaving the room.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” 

Jongdae sprawled his legs across Baekhyun’s and leaned sideways against the cushions, “It made me happy to know that the two of you were having the closest thing to a civilized conversation that you two could get. I know how hard it must be for you to even be here, Baek. Let alone speaking casually to Kim Minseok, so I didn’t want to disturb whatever was going on between the two of you.”

Baekhyun stared at his best friend, the sincerity that lingered in his features. Minseok was important to Jongdae. The image of Minseok’s worry and concern for Jongdae from hours before flashed in the back of his mind. Whatever connection had been established between the two of them...it was genuine, as tangible and whole as the man who sat next to him. It was none of his business to press either of them for the details regarding what had happened between them during the weeks that Jongdae had been living amongst the ACE members, but he couldn’t help but feel the stab of jealousy that came along with the uncertainty. 

Baekhyun dared to push the matter of Minseok’s friend, “Did you know?”

“Know what?”

“About his friend. The one who died.”  
The conflicted look that settled on Jongdae’s face was all the answer he needed, he sat up a little straighter and sighed, “Yes. I don’t know the full story, but yes.”

“I—He...Jongdae if something like that happened to you,” Baekhyun’s words began to falter, he couldn’t even find the words to describe how  _ destroyed _ he would be if he knew that Jongdae would never be coming back. 

Jongdae laced his hand through Baekhyun’s, the touch was like a solid anchor, keeping Baekhyun tied to this reality, “Baek...I know what you’re doing, what you’re thinking. Don’t think like that.”

“I would be…” Baekhyun could feel a vague panic settling in his stomach, his voice was barely above a whisper, squeezing at Jongdae’s hand to remind himself that he was here, that he was fine, “I would be nothing, absolutely nothing if I didn’t have you.”

Jongdae’s lips wobbled slightly at the words, the pitch of his voice matching Baekhyun’s, “I’m right here, Baek. I’m not going anywhere.”

“ _ Good _ .” 

And there was nothing stopping him from leaning forward and closing the small gap that felt like a deep abyss that had separated them for so long. The kiss was light and gentle as Baekhyun pushed himself as close to Jongdae as he possibly could. It wasn’t everything that he had ever imagined, he wished that the circumstances would have been different, but he almost couldn’t believe that he had even dared to do it. It wasn’t until he realized that he was the only one moving his lips that he jerked away. He didn’t need a mirror to know that his face was stark red, he was practically burning with embarrassment. 

“I—I...Oh my god, Jongdae, I’m so sorry,” Baekhyun fumbled for whatever words he could, “I don’t know what came over me.”

Jongdae looked completely and utterly stunned, his face looked how Baekhyun felt. He couldn’t even think to form words in his mind, let alone produce any that would roll off the tongue well. He pushed Jongdae’s legs off of his lap and stood to leave, but was caught off guard when Jongdae’s hand wrapped around his wrist, pulling him back down onto the couch, and before Baekhyun could even get a question out, Jongdae’s lips were on him.

Baekhyun’s eyes fluttered closed as Jongdae’s lips slowly ravaged his, his own mouth fell into the same rhythm. They were careful not to touch one another, and if Baekhyun was being honest with himself he was glad that they weren’t. He didn’t think he’d be able to control his hands if he were given the opportunity. And he was convinced that the devil had hear that silent thought, because Jongdae had pressed himself so close to Baekhyun’s body that he needed to wrap his arms around his neck for support. It were as if the world had fallen away and it were just the two of them, and it was suddenly everything Baekhyun wished for and more. So much  _ more _ .

He couldn’t  _ stand _ feeling like Jongdae was so far away, regardless of the fact that their chests were rising and falling against the other’s. He pulled Jongdae across his body, breaking the kiss just long enough for Jongdae to straddle his lap. He peered up at the younger through the hair that slightly dangled in his eyes. Jongdae’s hands were torturously hot against his skin, which was already set ablaze, and when he could feel his fingers slip upward past the nape of his neck and into the forest that was his hair, Baekhyun knew that he was a goner. Jongdae lowered his lips close to his, and when he stopped to hover, Baekhyun wet his lips in preparation. But when the contact never came, Baekhyun willed his eyes to travel up to meet Jongdae’s, who was now smiling a shit-eating grin, knowing that he had Baekhyun wrapped around his finger. 

“Are you just going to sit there all day and look at me,” Baekhyun whispered, “Or are you going to spare me and put me out of my misery?”

Jongdae chuckled before finally lowering his lips onto his own, and to make sure that he wasn’t going anywhere, Baekhyun slipped a hand around the back of Jongdae’s neck, crushing his lips to his. Jongdae shivered at the touch, and his fingers slipped further and further into his hair. A deep growl rumbled in Baekhyun’s throat at the sudden movement. His tongue lined Jongdae’s bottom lip, desperately begging for entry, and when Jongdae succumbed to his wishes, Baekhyun had been swept away. Jongdae’s grip on Baekhyun’s hair tightened, pulling him closer, as close as Jongdae could possibly get him. They were practically swallowing one another. 

Jongdae pulled himself back from those hypnotic lips so that he could come up for air. Both of them were panting, attempting to gulp down as much air as they possibly could. Baekhyun rested his hands on either side of Jongdae’s waist, dragging his hips closer to his lap. He brought a hand up to cup the side of Baekhyun’s face, the other rested at the crook of his neck. He stroked his thumb against the glass-like skin and examined Baekhyun’s face. He was flushed. Not only that, but he looked completely hypnotized by everything that had just happened. It was the sudden unfolding of years and years worth of frustration towards one another, all of the late nights they spent laying awake together, and the ache that they both felt deep down in the core of their souls after being separated from one another for the last several weeks. 

“ _ Jongdae _ ,” Baekhyun’s voice was raspy, and if Jongdae had been standing he was sure he would have collapsed at the way he had said his name.

He felt a single tap against his hip bone.

Jongdae’s eyes shot up to see that Baekhyun was already staring at him. 

Four more taps followed shortly after, and Jongdae could feel the tears forming behind his eyes as three followed suit after that. 

Their code. It had always been there to provide each other with a sense of comfort whenever they found themselves in the midst of danger. It was their silent way of communicating to the other that they were okay, that they were safe. It had been Baekhyun’s idea. The code. He had developed it all on his own during a mission that shortly followed the Europa mission where they both nearly lost their lives. He never knew what it meant, if it had meant anything at all, but in this moment he didn’t even need to ask. There were no words to describe the anxiousness that Jongdae had felt to hear the words come from Baekhyun’s lips, but he knew that the gesture was enough. It would always be enough. He could go his whole life without hearing him say it.

_ I love you. _

A single tear fell to the side of Baekhyun’s face as his right hand tightened its grip on Jongdae’s hip. He used his thumb to stroke the skin that laid bare underneath the shirt. It took all of his strength not to slip his hand underneath, but he held back for the sake of his own well being. He didn’t want to ruin the smile that slowly reached Jongdae’s eyes. 

He knew...Jongdae knew, and his heart ached for him. For the normal life that he knew they would never be able to have.


	24. CHAPTER 24: TEAM EX'ACT

 

Baekhyun wouldn’t let Jongdae out of his line of sight for even a moment, not after everything that had happened. His heart ached to touch him, explore every fine line, but he scaled back enough to keep Yixing and Jongin from becoming suspicious. 

Somehow Jongdae had managed to reset to his defaults. He had gone back to being his normal self the minute he stood from Baekhyun’s solid grip, and Baekhyun commended him for being able to school his features so well. He himself was having difficulties trying to sculpt his own. He couldn’t help himself, the man that he had been in love with for nearly three years seemingly felt something in return. Baekhyun could care less whether it was purely a physical attraction or if there were some genuine underlying emotions, Jongdae had kissed  _ him. _

Baekhyun silently thanked a god somewhere that they hadn’t been caught. He could only imagine the shit that Jongin would have given him if he had walked straight through those doors, only to bare witness to the sight of Jongdae straddling and enveloping his body as if his life depended on it. However, while it wasn’t the first intimate thing that they had ever done—there had been plenty of hand holding, indecipherable rogue touches, and midnight embraces to help chase the nightmares away—it  _ almost _ felt like they had finally been able to confess to one another, even though they had never able to find the appropriate time, place, or words to admit it. Everything had always been that easy with them, they didn’t need words to convey what they wanted, what they felt somewhere deep down inside of themselves, but with all of that came its own set of challenges. Both Yixing and Jongin could vouch for the infinite list of misunderstandings that had come in the form of consequence from the many,  _ many _ assumptions that either of them had formed based on particular circumstances that neither of them ever had control over. They both vowed to never speak of those times ever again, and regardless of how well they got along most of the time, anyone could positively identify Baekhyun as the petty instigator for nearly each of the trivial tiffs. He swore to himself that he’d do whatever it takes to keep a calm and collected attitude for the sake of their stable, yet fragile friendship, but he secretly hoped that Jongdae realized that the only reason he would start insignificant fights was because he cared. It was the only way by which he could show how much he truly cared for the younger. He’d rather spend the rest of his life bickering with Jongdae than not having him at all. 

Neither of them could disagree that when they came down from the high, which had been each other, they didn’t feel even remotely embarrassed or awkward. It had been the first and only time that they had been connected in that way, a purely physical way. There was no denying that they were connected by  _ something _ , whether it was through the mind or the soul hadn’t concerned or bothered Baekhyun. He figured that it might have been both, but neither of them could ever be sure. He had ruled out the mind on the basis of his own personal observation years ago; their ways of analyzing, articulating, and understanding information, they way in which they made decisions—important or not—had been the root of their differences. Jongdae had always been shy. Obedient and hardworking, but kept to himself a greater majority of the time, which rivaled Baekhyun's blinding and charismatic personality. He had never been afraid to say what was on his mind, and he quickly came to believe that Jongdae sincerely appreciated that about him. Not because he wanted to immerse himself in a person who spent the greater majority of their time trying to make friends with any person who was the complete opposite of himself, but because he  _ needed _ to in order to survive in their line of work. He needed someone who would be his other half, who would keep him balanced in more ways than one. Little did he know at the time time that Jongdae had been that person all along, it just took him too long to recognize it for the truth that it was. 

Baekhyun forced himself away from his thoughts and managed to skim the room long enough to gauge that nearly all of the EX’ACT members had shuffled their way into the room at some point or another within the last half-hour. Minseok was nowhere to be seen, and as much as Baekhyun wanted to care about his whereabouts, he just couldn’t bring himself to find the motivation to do so. Regardless of the secrets that he had shared with him. He wondered about just how much of that tale had been revealed to people like Kyungsoo or Junmyeon, if they knew anything at all. He shook the selfish curiosity away, allowing his eyes to settle where Jongdae was sitting and speaking with Chanyeol and Sehun at the kitchen dining table. All the while, Kyungsoo sat with Yixing and Jongin flipping through a large stack of papers, the same ones that Kyungsoo had been skimming through earlier that morning. Baekhyun had been left to his own devices, and as much as he loved thinking about Jongdae, his mind always managed to wander to the assassin who lost his life—the very murder that Minseok had to witness at such a young age. He would have only been several years younger than Baekhyun was now when it happened. He could only imagine what sort of images plagued Minseok’s dreams, ones that might have mimicked very similar ones that Baekhyun and Jongdae helped one another drive away. And if that was the case, then who did Minseok have? Who was there to help him unpack all of that baggage? 

_ Jongdae _ . He remembered the way that Minseok had said his best friend’s name during their late morning talk. He had mentioned that Jongdae reminded him of that friend who he had lost all of those years ago. It seemed that Jongdae had this sort of effect on people, one that allowed them to open up and clear all of the skeletons in their closets. Baekhyun knew that better than anyone else. Yet, Minseok was a rare breed. Baekhyun knew more about Minseok than he cared to admit, and being a public figure made him an easy target for stealth force operatives, much like himself, to get their hands on private personal information. Kim Minseok’s personal information was anything  _ but _ private, considering that his family members have been public servants for decades due to the vast and great contributions towards the advancement of their organization’s military. 

Minseok was the only person that Baekhyun had made several heavy assumptions about. He didn’t need an expert to tell him that his family was well-off, not only did they have money and status, but they had the fame and glory that most people craved. The right-hand family of the infamous Captain, but most people called them the Captain’s dogs. They did everything, and anything, that they were told regardless of the extremities. It was safe to say that Minseok had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Not only that, but he was bred for the same glory that his father eventually promised to pass down to him. However, when his father passed away shortly after the new, and now current, Captain took office, hundreds of rumors began to spread about Minseok’s sudden disappearance. In addition to the disappearance of his family’s grand presence amongst the many wealthy military families. There were many theories as to what had happened to the prodigal military family, and their shining son, who would eventually climb up the social and power ladder faster than anyone could ever imagine, but no one could ever confirm or deny if any of the rumors were strictly hearsay. Minseok had disappeared from the public eye for nearly a year, perhaps two, and even that seemed like a stretch. It wasn’t until he had re-emerged from the ashes, reborn like a fiery Phoenix, ready to set the world ablaze, as the head of the Captain’s newest operational task force. They were especially designed to deal with people like...well, him; Alpha and the ruckus that he had been stirring, particularly on planets in the outer portion of the system, for the last several years. Baekhyun didn’t believe it to be a false estimation when he assumed that Minseok’s ACE team and Alpha’s Rogue team had been formed roughly around the same time. Both of them hired to do the same thing, to track the whereabouts of important officials and individuals of their respective causes. Stealth missions and operations. Deadly, killing machines that had been crafted to do the work of leaders who were too afraid to get their hands dirty themselves. All things considered, there wasn’t much separating themselves from one another. The only thing that stood in their way was the fine line that separated them because of the set of codes and morals they chose to follow.

_ Why did there always need to be a line?  _ Baekhyun thought.

Minseok staggered through the door as if Baekhyun’s thoughts had summoned him there. He couldn’t deny that the leader looked absolutely exhausted as he trekked through the room, stack of papers in hand, headed straight for his desk. Baekhyun’s eyes shifted to Jongdae, whose attention was strictly held by Minseok’s passive entrance. It hadn’t taken him too long to realize that Minseok was able to command a room without saying a single word or sparing anyone even the slightest glance. Each and every person in the room had come to a stand still, save for Chanyeol and Sehun who were in the midst of intense conversation. Baekhyun couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the fact that reality had practically come to a sudden halt all around them, all because of someone who couldn’t even give the other people in the room the time day. 

~

Minseok couldn’t take sitting through another meeting if it meant that he was going to spend the full hour either doing all of the talking, or being screamed at by his higher ups. Before leaving the conference room the Captain had dropped a large stack of papers into his lap, and knew that he was about to spent the rest of the night shuffling through and analyzing its contents.

He wasn’t sure when and how his shared bedroom with Kyungsoo had become EX’ACT’s lounging area, but he couldn’t help but wish that everyone would just disappear, even if it was for a little while. He just needed a space that was quiet enough for him to hear his own thoughts. Everyone seemed to be accounted for, save for Junmyeon, who was also stuck drifting between his own share of meetings. He sighed as he set the large, daunting stack of papers on his desk, leaving them be for the time being. He knew that he wouldn’t be revisiting it until later in the evening once everyone started to return to their respective rooms. Instead, he grabbed a spare set of training clothes, with the exception of the harness, and headed downstairs for the second time that day. If he was going to be doing anything, he was at least going to let off some steam.

He could feel several sets of eyes on him as he left the room, something that Minseok had gradually gotten used to over the years. Yet, this time it had felt different. Perhaps it had been because of the strangers he had allowed to infiltrate his team, or the secrets that he knew Baekhyun was keeping from the rest of his very own team, or the shaking foundation of his newfound friendship with Kim Jongdae. He supposed that it could have been a combination of all these things, and yet, regardless of whatever the real reason was, Minseok needed an escape from this reality. 

Minseok had climbed into the elevator and pressed a button that would take him one level down. Lately the elevator had felt more suffocating than usual, he couldn’t help but feel that there was a constant tension in the air, one that would follow him around like his own personal rain cloud. He reached for the buttons of his uniform and started fumbling with each of them with his free hand. He could feel a bead of sweat starting to snake down the side of his neck the more and more that he fumbled with them. Impatient, Minseok let the clothes in his hand fall and hit the floor, and normally he would be repelled by the idea of his clothes sitting on a floor that had accumulated a great deal of foot traffic, but he could care less in a moment like this. He grabbed the buttoned seams of the fabric and in one swift, strong tug, he managed to tear the shirt clean open. A blast of cool air melted against his chest, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He took an extra couple of seconds to relish in the cold breeze that passed, until he remembered the pile of clothes that had fallen to the floor. He scrambled to pick up the discarded clothes as he shrugged off the top of his uniform, and once his upper body was bare, he dragged his arms and head through the holes of the form-fitting white tee.

When the elevator door creaked open, he pushed himself forward down the familiar hallway. He contemplated running the obstacle course that had already been reset by the headquarters staff, but he knew that sweating wasn’t going to be enough to calm the restlessness in his blood. He passed the set of double doors that gave way to their usual training area, but the sort of training that Minseok needed wasn’t the physical kind. It was the mental, spiritual kind. He took an immediate left down the hallway that was adjacent to their training room. Along both sides of the walls were a set of four doors, creating a total of eight, that stood directly across from one another. Minseok’s steps quickened as he got closer and closer to the door that he might as well have known by heart. He could have made it there even if he was blind. He took a deep breath as his fingers curled around the round knob. It was cool,  _ icy _ , to the touch, and Minseok relished in it. Without having to even twist the knob, the door swung open as it usually did. These rooms had been designed with technology that Minseok couldn’t have even dreamed of it. It was technology that even the smartest amongst them couldn’t comprehend the logistics of it. It was surrealistic. Minseok could have someone explain it to him every single day for remainder of his life and still not understand how the rooms worked. They were designed to adapt to a person’s elemental power. How the rooms knew what power the wielder possessed? He’d kill to know. Everything beyond that door sang to Minseok’s soul, his  _ blood _ , as if it were calling him, reaching out to become one with him.

He stepped through the threshold of the room and willed his power to fill the empty gaps of his soul. Only those people who knew how to control their powers could be granted access into these sorts of rooms, touching the knobs determined whether one would be granted access or not—some people call it an enchantment, others believe in the raw, unstoppable persistence of intellectual technology. Minseok didn’t believe in either of the two; however, he couldn’t help but think that either of the options were plausible. If trillions of people could perform elemental magic, born with the ability, who’s to say that it wasn’t an enchantment? 

The rooms have the ability to adapt to a person’s element, and then create a series of scenarios, situations, that would challenge a person beyond just their physical capabilities. Scenarios and level of difficulty differed depending on the person who dared to take on the challenge. The rooms were not only challenging, but they were strict. No one was allowed to utter a single word regarding what they saw, what they experienced inside them, regardless of the fact that they yielded something entirely different for each person. For Minseok, it was always the same sort of general situations. The simulation always demanded two things from him: to save a life and to take a life. He never knew who or what he was going to see. When he first started challenging the simulation rooms, he got off easy. It was always people he’d never met before—women and their children, and people who were supposed to mimic the enemy—and it had been easy to determine whether the simulation wanted him to save them or to kill them. However, as the first initial months of testing passed, he had started seeing the ACE members. He would never be able to forget the first time. 

He could vividly recall the room throwing him into the middle of raining gunfire. At the time, he hadn’t been able to glean that he had been mentally transported to Mercury, when civil disputes between the pirates and the locals had been at its peak. Minseok had been sent with Sehun, Junmyeon, and Kyungsoo to scope out the situation, while Chanyeol remained at headquarters working on the prototype of the 326. Everything had been too calm, especially since the reports from the citizens had described something next to chaos. And before they could grasp the situation for what it was, bullets riddled the fragile ground all around them. He could recall instinctually grabbing Sehun by the nape of the neck and throwing him behind the nearest wall before unleashing a sliver of his own power to combat the bullets. The fear and anger that boiled the blood in his veins ripped open the heavens and he had sent down a hailing shower of ice shards over the rooftop where the gunfire was coming from. It was the fastest simulation that Minseok had ever been able to get through, and to this day, he still wasn’t sure what allowed him to pass onto the next phase of the faux reality: saving Sehun, or killing those dozen or so gunman, in addition to several innocents.

The room began to bend and shift into dark shades of brown, furniture began to take shape and manifest all around him. It wasn’t until the familiar stench of blood began to fill his nostrils that Minseok was able to gauge what room was forming right before his very eyes. He would never be able to get used to the hyper realism, especially in this particular room. Everything from the colors to the smells, as well as the way certain objects felt, had been horrifically accurate, and the room dragged him straight into the heart of his worst nightmare. 

Luhan came flying through the door. 

It never seemed to fail that this was the one scenario that would present itself each time Minseok built up just enough courage to brave these simulations again. And no matter how many times he’d try to make it through this phase, his decision would always be rejected by whatever technology made the situation possible. 

However, it wasn’t the fact that he was standing in this god forsaken room that bothered him, but rather that  _ this _ room was the first simulation of the routine two he usually had to pass through. Out of the hundreds of times that Minseok had braved the rooms, this was the very first time that this specific situation appeared first. It was always his last task to complete of the two, and it was the very one that he could never escape successfully. 

It was that ear splitting crack of the bed frame that made Minseok’s blood run cold. 

_ Keep it together, Minseok _ .  _ It’s not real...it’s not real.  _

No matter how many times he told himself that very truth, he always managed to fall prey to the falsities around him. The lies that spun around him dragged him further and further under the waves of his emotions. They lured him in the same way a siren’s sweet, euphoric song called to the curious, weak-hearted men who sailed the seven Earthen seas.

“Minseok!  _ Watch out _ !”

Luhan’s foreign voice pulled Minseok from his thoughts. A throwing knife was headed straight for the spot directly in between his eyes. If he had taken even a second longer to move out of the way, the simulation would have spit him out and thrown him into whatever alternative scenario that awaited him. A loud thud signaled the blade’s direct contact with the wall behind him. He turned only long enough to see that Luhan had been mere centimeters away from the blade’s newfound home, it was completely embedded to the point where only the hilt was visible.

Just like that night when Luhan died, six large assassins had piled into the tiny room that they shared together, leaving very little room for them to work. He had been through this simulation so many times that he settled to jump into the situation based on his gut instinct. For the first several attempts, after he first started his training in the simulation rooms, he and Luhan had always made a plan, much like how they originally had. It wasn’t until the sixth time of failing that he decided to ignore the haphazard, spontaneously crafted plans that Luhan would propose—they were the same thing every time: he would take three and Minseok would handle the other three, and then one of them would make a mad dash for their weapons arsenal. It were as if the room were replaying the entire night to a tee, and he already knew how that would end. 

It had taken Minseok no time at all to rip through two of the assassins who were tearing through the room right for them, driving icy spear point blades straight through their throats, knocking their heads clean off of their shoulders.

Luhan passed Minseok like a flash of light, and just when he thought he had everything under control, the situation had fallen back into its usual sequence. Minseok grunted a sound of frustration as he jabbed a third assassin in the side of the neck with a makeshift clip point knife, dragging and ripping it clean through the base of the neck. He would get to Luhan, and he wasn’t going to let things end the same way again. When the third assassin fell to the ground with a resounding thud, a bow of solid ice formed in Minseok’s grip, freezing the tips of his fingers until they were nearly purple. Soon enough, several arrows formed as well. He knotted one in the bowstring and pulled it back with ease, aiming for the cleanest shot that was humanly possible. He wanted to ensure that it wouldn’t snag on any of Luhan’s body parts. He couldn’t risk the simulation interpreting the contact as his intent to kill. When he was satisfied with the angle, he let the solid arrow fly out of his grip. The arrow struck the back of the assassin’s neck at an odd angle, but was effective enough to kill on impact.

Minseok was satisfied by the four he had been able to take out on his own; Luhan had gotten one and was now working on the last, who seemed to be much stronger than his fellow comrades. Minseok rolled his eyes and pulled back another arrow in order to finish him off, but before he even had a chance to release the arrow, the room had shifted.

“Take the shot, Minseok.”

Minseok nearly dropped the bow when he looked to see the scene that had unfolded in front of him. He was standing directly next to the weapons arsenal, across the room from where Luhan was being manhandled by the very same assassin from that night. Minseok could feel his pulse quicken in his veins. 

_ No _ . Not again. 

“Lu…” Minseok managed to croak out. The syllable did nothing to console either of them, but rather instigated the assassin to press the short blade further into Luhan’s neck. He raised the bow once again in an offensive manner, aiming the arrow in a spot that fell several inches away from where he had years ago. 

“Shoot, Minseok,” Luhan’s voice clamored in Minseok’s mind the way it always had, was more authoritative this time around, and this time there were no tears. The look on his face was purely unforgiving, angry. “Shoot me,  _ please _ .” 

It had taken this long for Minseok to finally figure out what he was meant to do, and he didn’t stop the tears from flowing after the realization had been made. They were doing him no favors either way.

_ It isn’t real. None of this is real. _

“Minseok,” It wasn’t in his mind. He dragged his eyes to follow the echo of Luhan’s voice on the other side of the room. “Thank you for keeping your promise...thank you for finding me again. From now on, take care of him.”

Minseok closed his eyes as the arrowed ripped away from his numb fingertips. He couldn’t bring himself to look at what he had done, whether it was an illusion or not. Out of the hundreds of times he had attempted this phase of the room, he did not once consider that perhaps the reason why he was never able to truly succeed was because he had to kill Luhan, rather than save him from the hands of that assassin. It was a cruel fate, one that Luhan had never been able to escape, not even in this alternative reality. He was either destined to die at the hands of the enemy, or at the hands of the man whom he cared about most. 

When he opened his eyes again, the room had fallen away, sparing him the sight of Luhan’s pierced body. He could only imagine that the shot was so clean that it would have gone straight through him, and hit the assassin directly behind him. In place of the room that had been there just moments ago was a series of large glass-like panels towering so far above him that is was hard to tell where they ended. He took several hesitant steps towards the opening of what looked to be a labyrinth and was met with the reflection of his tired face. 

It was a room like no other he had ever seen before. Even though he couldn’t pinpoint the source of the near blinding light, the walls shimmered and glistened. It was one of the most beautiful rooms Minseok had seen thus far. It all seemed so pure, fragile, and it mesmerized him greatly, nearly forgetting that none of it was real. 

“ _ Minseok _ .”

A whisper, but he had heard it. His name, like a whisper of the wind whistling in his ears.

“ _ Minseok _ .”

The ambiguous familiarity of the voice lured Minseok through the crystalline maze. He focused on the sound of that voice as hard as he could, trying to distinguish where it was coming from. It was infinitely elusive. Each time Minseok thought he was getting closer to its owner, he would turn a corner and be met with hundreds of images of his own reflection. He struggled to keep his frustration at bay, but he realized that each time the bubbling anger would boil in his veins, the sweet voice would melt it all away. 

Minseok turned another corner, this one more narrow that the last several twist and turns, but this time he caught the slightest glimpse of another person’s deep, onyx hair.

“Hello?” Minseok called out. “Is anyone there?”

“ _ Minseok _ .”

The voice was hypnotic, and Minseok did everything he could to keep from falling prey to its spellbinding effects. The muscles in his neck twitched, and he rolled his neck sideways to drive away the building irritation. He forced himself further, walking quietly and quickly through narrow hallways, sometimes only to meet a dead end, which drove him to turn back to start over again. The incessant ringing of that voice in his ears made him desperate, he started feeling dizzy and disoriented from all of the twists and turns. He didn’t think the grave feeling could get worse, until he turned another corner, and saw Kim Jongdae standing next to his own reflection. 

Minseok stumbled several feet backwards. A flood of mixed emotions washed over him, dragging and thrashing him further and further into the deep abyss that made up his soul. In the midst of the internal chaos, Minseok’s eyes locked with Jongdae, which helped to anchor him to the situation at hand. 

“Jongdae…” He fumbled for words, something,  _ anything _ , but the shock had settled deep. 

Without considering any rational thought, he took off in each and any direction. He didn’t care whether he had to backtrack and start all over, even if the long, narrow paths felt like a million miles long.

He wanted nothing more than to gather Jongdae in his arms, to protect him from whatever necessary evil the room had program especially for him. Even if none of it was real, there was a heightened sense of alertness and panic that flowed through Minseok's veins. Why was Jongdae even here? The rooms had only every shown him his immediate team members, ACE, in addition to Luhan. This had been the first time ever that someone new had been thrown into the mix, with the exception of the out-of-place individuals who Minseok had come into contact during the first several simulations he had ever passed through. 

The panic he felt whenever he would see Luhan would not, could not, compare to the sheer and undiluted fear that consumed his entire being when he saw Jongdae's face looking back at him. It was in the moment that Minseok realized just how much he had been ignoring about himself, about the relationship that bound him to Jongdae. Regardless of the short amount of time they had spent together, and the limited information that they knew about one another, Minseok felt like he had been waiting for him this whole time. As if Jongdae had been able to fill the void that had appeared shortly after Luhan had passed on from this life. It wasn't until Minseok had seen Jongdae's face in the glass that he was able to realize that he and Luhan could never be the same. There was never anything to compare, and the guilt that he felt in the pit of his stomach made him feel sick. 

"Jongdae!" Minseok yelled so loud that he could feel the strain on his vocal cords, " _ Jongdae _ , please! Where are you?! Give me a sign.  _ Please _ ."

Minseok took a second to replenish the air that had been pushed out from his lungs before taking off in another sprint. What felt like nearly half an hour had passed before Minseok truly started feeling the frustration transform into anger. He felt like he was running in circles and that the simulation was merely teasing him with Jongdae's presence, his image. One that motivated him to do whatever he could to get to Jongdae. If it was true that the simulation had placed Jongdae in the room, it could have only meant one thing. It was his job to save him. It was the price that Minseok needed to pay for killing Luhan. In exchange for taking a life, he needed to save one, and he couldn't picture what sort of things the simulation had planned for Minseok when he would finally reach Jongdae. The rooms were unforgiving in this way. The hyperrealism of each of these rooms gave way for a whole new sadistic sort of torture. Participants are so fully engulfed into these alternative realities that each and every sense—even ones that Minseok didn't even realize that he had—was shifted into overdrive. It felt like pure torture, watching and feeling people die right before his very eyes, and for half of it...in his arms. 

Minseok could feel in his bones that he was getting closer to wherever the room was holding Jongdae. As he rounded corner after corner, more of Jongdae's reflection would appear against the walls, in addition to his own. There were hundreds of them put together. Hundreds of the same version of himself, chasing after hundreds of the same version of the man that would always be out of his reach.  

He rounded one final corner, only to see Jongdae standing in the middle of the room staring back at him. A small smile spread across his face.

"Jongdae," his name passed through his lips in the same way that a breath would. 

The center of the room was small, it would never have been able to fit more than five people tops. Minseok had felt even more suffocated than he had been while running through the maze. Out of the corners of his eyes, he watched as the entrance and exit points of the labyrinth faded into nothingness. A solid wall of ice, which now circled the both of them, replaced the narrow gaps that had been there just moments ago. 

He hadn’t noticed the small ring that had been keeping Jongdae confined to the raised platform that jutted from the glassy floor, and when Minseok found the inner strength to push himself closer to Jongdae, what had been floating on small trays around him made Minseok’s stomach sink to his feet. 

A gun. A short clip-point blade. An axe. 

And one that was completely and utterly empty. He didn’t need another person to tell him what that meant. He would be able to chose. The room had prescribed him several options in weaponry, but Minseok had also always been given the opportunity to choose how to deliver his killing blows. Here and now, he wasn’t sure if he’d have to physical strength to conjure up something that was built from his very soul just to do away with the man that he had grown to care for overnight. 

“No,” Minseok insisted. “No. There has to be another way.”

For the first time  _ ever _ , the simulation wanted more from him. One kill wasn’t going to be enough this time around. 

Jongdae lifted his eyes from the gun that floated directly in front of him and looked across to Minseok. 

“ _ Minseok _ .”

It felt like someone had pulled a rug right from underneath Minseok when he didn’t hear the deep and rich familiarity of Jongdae’s voice, but the lightness and furtiveness of Luhan’s. Minseok rubbed his eyes, and when he pulled his hands away, Jongdae still stood there, taunting every cell in Minseok’s body. He could feel himself shaking his head in denial, rejecting the truth of that he had just separated in his head minutes before. Just when he had come to accept the differences between Luhan and Jongdae for what they were, the two of them were now morphed into one cohesive manifestation. 

“Minseok.” Luhan’s voice echoed off of the walls. Minseok was convinced that he could hear the sound of his heart shattering at the way Luhan had said his name, in combination with the way Jongdae had been smiling at him.

“Lu—Jong—,” Minseok ran a hand through his hair, “Who are you? Which one of you is really here right now?”

Jongdae chuckled that light and airy laugh that he had come to know, “I guess you could say that it is both of us.”

Minseok cocked an eyebrow in confusion.

“Seok,” Luhan’s voice was barely above a whisper, “You know better than anyone that these rooms are formed to test you based on the contents of your mind. All of it. They pinpoint those who you care about most and use them again you. ACE uses that information to  _ their _ advantage in order to break you down just so they can build you back up in their image. You cannot let that happen to Jongdae, you and I both know that he doesn’t belong here, and even if he insists on staying, you need to make sure the Captain can’t have his way with him.”

“Why are you telling me all of this? You know nothing about him.”

The Jongdae-Luhan hybrid took a step down from the platform and reached for the gun that sat atop its tray, and found its place several feet in front of Minseok. 

“ _ Minseok _ ,” Jongdae’s voice started to mix with Luhan’s, as if their voices were echoing one another. 

Luhan’s voice was the strongest when they said, “You found me. In this body, in this person.”

Minseok shuffled a single step back, “That’s impossible. It’s not physically—”

Jongdae shook his head, Luhan’s voice taking over once more, “You know that’s not what I mean, Seok. My time in this world came to an end many years ago, and I cherished each and every moment of it. Especially those days— _ months _ —leading up to my death. You know why? Because I was with you. My one and only friend...”

Minseok could feel the tears burning his face, he didn’t dare wipe them away. It wouldn’t even have mattered if he did anyways, they would have simply kept on flowing, like life did regardless of what occured, stopping for nothing, for no one.

“You struggled for many years, Seok. You were lonely, regardless of the fact that you have been surrounded by people who care for and love you, even if you can’t bring yourself to show that you care about them too. You closed yourself off to anyone and everyone, all because you were afraid that the past was going to repeat itself. Please, stop blaming yourself for what happened that day. It’s the reason why the simulation has never let you get passed me.”

“W—what?”

Luhan forced Jongdae’s head to nod. They were the puppet and puppet master in one body.

“You spent these last several years believing that these simulations were a grand opportunity for you to save me from a fate that is inescapable for every single person in the universe. We are all destined to meet the face of death someday, Seok. For some of us it’s a person, for others it’s like embracing a voluntary sleep. And even though my assailant was masked, I do not associate my death with him, but with you.”

Minseok took another step back. If Luhan was trying to do something to comfort him, he was doing far from that.

“I gladly embraced death on that day all of those years ago, Minseok,” a tear rolled down Jongdae’s face, whether it had been tears that Luhan had never been able to shed, or Jongdae crying because of the story that was unfolding between the three of them, Minseok couldn’t tell. “If it had always meant that you were able to escape with your life, that you were able to  _ live _ , I would do it all over again without a second thought.”

Tears trickled from Minseok’s eyes as his lid fell shut, biting down hard on his lip to prevent a sob from escaping.

“Why?” Minseok had managed to croak out, voice cracking ever so slightly.

The Jongdae-Luhan manifestation took a step closer to Minseok, a serious look had fallen across its features. Jongdae lifted his free arm and placed it against Minseok’s cheek, slowly rubbing and massaging the tears from his face. He caught himself leaning into the touch, the warmth of Jongdae’s hand helped to combat the iciness that engulfed his heart.

“You were never able to figure it out, even back then,” Luhan admitted.

Minseok willed his eyes open, and he felt like he could melt into Jongdae’s arms when he saw the way he had been staring at him. Luhan cleared his voice, breaking the mini trance that he had been deluged by, “I did everything I did because…”

Minseok was vaguely away of Jongdae slipping the gun in between his fingers, and he took a brief moment to confirm the sudden movement. The gun was like a heavy weight in Minseok’s hand, pulling him back to the situation at hand. 

“I love you.”

His mind went blank. Luhan. Jongdae. Their voices had been equal to one another, and confusion and disorientation wafted over him. As much as he cared for and loved Luhan, he never considered that Luhan himself might have felt similar, or in this case, even more than what Minseok felt. His best friend, his family, he had loved him. Even in passing. Minseok wondered if Luhan was waiting patiently on the other side of the void for him, unbeknownst to the rising feelings that lingered in Minseok’s rock-solid heart for another. 

Minseok took a moment to consider Jongdae’s voice, which had been just as prevalent as Luhan’s. He couldn’t decipher what it meant, what it would mean for the two of them once he returned to the tangible reality. 

“Minseok…” 

It was just Jongdae’s voice now, as if Luhan had released the strings on Jongdae’s body and set him free. Minseok forced his eyes to meet Jongdae’s, whose were pleading, desperate. 

“You need to do this,” Jongdae commanded, “Let me go in here...and find me out there. I’ll be waiting.”

Minseok shook his head, biting down on his lip to keep the tears from flowing again, “I can’t…”

Jongdae closed the space between them, slipping his arms around Minseok’s shoulders and crushing him to his warm chest, “You can...you have to.”

He lingered for a moment longer before releasing his grip, and Minseok shivered at the cold that embraced him as Jongdae stepped way. Jongdae tugged at the wrist of the hand that was wrapped around the gun, pulling it high enough until the barrel was resting against his heart. 

A sob escaped Minseok’s lips, “ _ Jongdae _ …”

Jongdae smiled a warm and understanding smile at him, whispering, “It has to be you, Minseok, it has to.”

Minseok’s hand shook violently, but he took a deep breath and did what he could to calm the shaking. He wanted the shot to be clean, even though he knew that this Jongdae wasn’t going to feel the pain like he would. He gladly forced his eyes shut and moved his finger from the safety and let it hover over the trigger.

“I’ll be waiting for  _ you _ ,” Jongdae whispered.

And with the release of the breath that Minseok had been holding, he had pulled the trigger. 

~

Minseok gasped as he was pulled back into the real world. He felt disoriented by the chain of events that had just occurred in the simulation. The Luhan-Jongdae confession, having to shoot Jongdae. He couldn’t even bear to think about it. 

He pushed himself up from the floor and took several long strides for the door, ripping it open so fast that the door hit and bounced off of the wall at the impact. And it hadn’t been the door hitting him in the back of the head that surprised him, but rather that Jongdae was leaning up against the wall across the hallway.

Waiting.

For him.

Just like his simulated self had said. 


	25. CHAPTER 25: JONGDAE & MINSEOK

“Jongdae.”

His name had slipped out of Minseok’s mouth unwillingly. The coincidence that Jongdae was now standing before him was too great to be fathomable.

“How—how did you know that I was here?”

Jongdae pushed himself away from the wall and stood a little straighter, but Minseok didn’t need him to explain how he knew he was here. He knew that it most likely had been Junmyeon who told Jongdae about these specialized training rooms, and it was also Junmyeon who knew better than anyone that whenever Minseok would disappear for hours on end without any word, he was most likely here.

Jongdae took several steps closer to Minseok, who was still standing in the doorway of the simulation room, “You’ve been gone for nearly a whole day, people were starting to get worried about you.”

Minseok could feel a puzzled look falling over his features. He knew it was a lie, the ACE members knew that this sort of behavior was not out of the ordinary, and wouldn’t have even given his absence a second thought, “Like who?”

He pushed his hands into his pockets as he watched the wheels spin in Jongdae’s mind, “I remember Sehun and Chanyeol mentioning that they needed to speak with you, but they weren’t entirely sure where you went.”

“Is that so?”

Jongdae nodded, and Minseok couldn’t help but chuckle at Jongdae’s failed attempt at an excuse.

“What?”

Minseok tore his eyes from the ground and allowed them to land on Jongdae’s pretty face, “Why don’t you just come out and say what we both know is the truth?”

For a moment it looked like Jongdae was going to combat the accusation, but settled for a sigh of defeat instead, “Why didn’t you let me know that you were coming down here? I suspected the worst.”

“And what do you constitute as _the worst_?” Minseok plucked a towel from the stack that had been sitting against the wall inside the simulation room, and started to pat away some of the sweat that lingered on the back of his neck.

“Nothing,” Jongdae shot back, his eyes travelled into the too-well-lit room that stood beyond the door frame, “What’s in there anyways?”

Minseok draped the towel around his neck as he closed the door behind him, “Literally, nothing. But, a greater majority of the time, they hold the key to your worst nightmares. Junmyeon told you I was here but didn’t explain what was down here?”

“Oh, Junmyeon wasn’t the one who told me you were down here.”

“Was it someone else from ACE then?”

Jongdae scrunched his face, “I mean...yes? But no?”

A strange sense of dread started to settled in the pit of Minseok’s stomach, “Who told you I was here?”

Jongdae scratched the back of his neck, a nervous tick that Minseok had picked out when it had first appeared, “Well, for a while I was looking for you on my own. It was probably around four in the morning, and I couldn’t sleep knowing that you hadn’t come back yet. I first assumed that you had come downstairs to the training room, but when I looked through the doors, I didn’t see anyone. At that point, some other agent who works for the organization spotted me, asking me why I was wondering around in a restricted area—which none of you bothered to mention. After I explained who I was, and who I was looking for, the agent brought me into the control room at the beginning of the hall—”

“Wait,” Minseok interrupted, “What do you mean they took you into the control room? Who was it? What did they look like?”

Jongdae looked taken aback by the amount of questions that Minseok was throwing him. Minseok took a deep breath and gave himself several moments to compose himself, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assault you with so many questions. It’s just…”

Minseok looked up and down the small corridor to make sure that there was no one around, and he lowered his voice, “It’s just that you shouldn’t trust everyone that you meet here. From now on, don’t speak to anyone unless absolutely necessary, okay? There are eyes _everywhere_ , Jongdae. What did they show you in that control room?”

Jongdae knew right away that this was the leader in Minseok coming out, and it was somewhat intimidating the way that he demanded information like it was something so easily accessible. He was forced to take a single step back at the impact of the words.

“What did they show you, _Jongdae_?” His voice was a little louder now, but it didn’t scare him. He didn’t think that Minseok could ever scare him.

Jongdae took a deep breath, and shook his head, “Not here.”

Minseok seemed to immediately understand, grabbing Jongdae by the wrist and dragging him down the hallway and into the elevator. Even though Minseok had pressed the button to take them to their designated floor, he slammed his fist down on the emergency stop, which sent Jongdae flying in one direction or another as the elevator to a sudden halt. The blinding fluorescent lights dimmed to a blood red, which cast red-black shadows all around them. He could hear the fan of the air conditioning unit spinning in the vent until it was completely silent.

“When the emergency systems are put into place everything in these elevators are shut off,” Minseok leaned against the wall adjacent to the panel, “Microphones, cameras, anything electrical will be disabled. The red light is the only feature that works.”

Jongdae settled against the wall directly across from Minseok. He wasn’t sure whether it was the nature of the situation, or if it was red lighting that drew Jongdae to Minseok’s cat-like eyes. The blood red shadows helped to emphasize the shape, which Jongdae felt like he could stare at all day.

“Now tell me what they showed you in there,” Minseok demanded, his voice bounced off of the walls around him, which made it sound louder than it actually was.

Jongdae ran a hand through his hair, scrunching it a bit, before he was able to realize that small patches of sweat were starting to run along his hairline.

“When we came through the door, the first thing I noticed was that there were dozens of computer screens, but everyone had been crowded around one in particular. The agent told me to take a look, but really, he was pushing me in that general direction. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer. The whole time I was just generally confused as to why he had dragged me in there, all I had done was ask where you were.”

Minseok made a vague noise of acknowledgement at the latter statement.

“But it wasn’t until I saw what everyone had been hovering around that I realize he was taking me to my answer.”

“What do you mean?”

Jongdae looked hesitant, so Minseok took several steps closer and took a seat against the wall that intersected his own. He looked down to see Minseok looking back up at him, a silent invitation to sit with him. Jongdae slid down the wall, legs crashing into Minseok’s, but neither of them made a move to untangle their slender limbs.

He cleared his throat and spoke casually, “I saw you. There, on the screen.”

Jongdae noticed Minseok flinch, as subtle as it had been, “What do you mean you saw me?”

“The simulation,” Jongdae elaborated, “They were watching you go through your simulation.”

Minseok’s Adam’s apple bobbed as soon as the words were out. They could both feel the unspoken questions that were suspended in the air around them. After a long period of silence, Minseok release a sigh of frustration.

“You saw yourself there,” Minseok stated matter-of-factly, “I can’t explain why.”

Jongdae lifted his eyes to Minseok, who was doing everything he could to avert his gaze, “Minseok.”

The slight twitch in Minseok’s neck at the sound of Jongdae’s voice saying his name, and Minseok shutting his eyes to further escape questioning, was all he needed to see to determine that he was embarrassed. Jongdae instinctually reached across their legs and made a move to grab Minseok’s hand, his hand hovered there just long enough for Minseok to open his eyes to see the hand hanging there. What surprised Jongdae the most was the sensation of Minseok’s icy fingers wrapping around his very own. Minseok leaned his head against the back wall, and then rolled his neck just slightly to meet Jongdae’s stare.

Any words, any questions that Jongdae had for Minseok had disappeared when that seductive feline gaze met his own. He was vaguely aware of his throat running a little dry at the contact. He couldn’t tell if it was his mind playing trick on him or not, but he could have swore that he felt Minseok tighten his grip around his fingers. Jongdae waited a couple seconds exactly before reciprocating the tightening of his grip, just ever so slightly, and when Minseok’s tired eyes widened at the contact, Jongdae felt his heart squeeze in his chest.

It took every muscle in Jongdae’s jaw to keep him from licking his dry lips, but his body betrayed him. Even though his lips felt a temporary sense of relief, he could feel his pulse quicken when Minseok lifted his head from the wall, shifting his legs slightly under Jongdae’s in order to turn his body a little more in his direction. Minseok’s eyes were addictive, the way they just drew Jongdae in and wouldn’t let him go. There was a mystery there, one that Jongdae could spend the rest of his days trying to figure out. He could tell that Minseok was holding something back, he couldn’t tell what it was exactly, but Jongdae’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest when he saw Minseok bite down on his lip... _hard_.

Jongdae’s breathing staggered to some degree and he could tell that Minseok knew it, “ _Minseok_.”

He wanted to come off as more insistent, questioning, but his name rolled off of his tongue in a desperate whisper, voice somewhat hoarse. Minseok’s eyebrow cocked at the mentioning of his name, leaning a bit forward.

They were so close, enough for their shoulders to be touching, and the tangled mess of their legs that were starting to get hot against each other fueled the suffocating tension that hung in between them. Every cell in Jongdae’s body craved to be _so_ much closer, but he knew it was wrong. Minseok would always be out of his reach, but that’s what made him that much more desirable.

“Jongdae,” Minseok’s voice was huskier than his own, which surprised him greatly, “If you say my name one more time, I might lose it.”

Jongdae’s breathing reeled. Minseok noticed the way that Jongdae’s chest would rise and fall in a matter of half seconds, even the sound of his breathing had become more audible in his ear. Minseok forced his eyes away from the younger as a result of the butterflies that sat in his chest.

“Look at me, Minseok,” Jongdae’s voice was dark, and Minseok couldn’t take it anymore.

Minseok’s head whipped in Jongdae’s direction, and his eyes immediately fell on those soft lips that looked so much more desirable under the red lighting, “ _I’m sorry_.”

He grabbed Jongdae by the collar of his shirt, practically dragging him into his lap and crushed his lips to his own. The kiss was explorative and devastatingly desperate as both of their lips moving in time with the other’s. Minseok was vaguely aware of Jongdae snaking a hand around the base of his neck, pulling his mouth deeper into his. The two fought for dominance, and as much as Minseok wanted to submit to Jongdae’s wicked and tasteful lips, he wouldn't back down. He was the only leader here. He pulled away for the briefest of moments, pushing Jongdae from his lap and against the back wall, climbing atop his legs to make sure that he couldn’t move. Jongdae had pressed his head against the wall and peered up at Minseok through his dangerously long lashes. Minseok cupped his jaw, which had exposed the soft and unexplored plains of his neck, but he would save that for later. Jongdae’s eyes were dangerously alluring, but he wasn’t the one who was in charge anymore. His mouth fell down onto Jongdae’s as if their lips were magnets. He had hardly gotten half-way through tracing Jongdae’s top lip, but Jongdae had opened his jaw as wide as he could before he could even finish the line.

Minseok slipped his tongue inside of Jongdae’s mouth, and they took turns tasting one another in long strides. He could feel the back of Jongdae’s neck burning, and Minseok willed the ice that dwelled under his skin to swarm his fingers.

A moan rumbled in Jongdae’s throat, but he pushed Minseok’s hand away, “No...I want to feel this with you.”

He pushed Minseok lightly, not enough to push him off, but he had put a small distance in between them. Minseok raised an impatient eyebrow in his direction, and it was answer enough when Jongdae ripped his jacket from his body, exposing the black sleeveless tee that he had most likely borrowed from Chanyeol’s closet. Minseok’s mouth went dry at the sight of Jongdae’s raven black hair sticking to his forehead in one place or another because of the sweat that had collected there.

“ _Minseok_ ,” The way that Jongdae said his name made every fiber of his being feel like it had been set on fire, “Come. _Here_.”

And he obeyed, but as he settled back down on Jongdae’s lap, he tugged on the medium length hair that fell across the uppermost part of the back of Jongdae’s head, eyeing him from his towering position. Minseok lowered himself as close to Jongdae’s lips as he could without touching them, and against them he whispered, “I’m the only one who gives the orders around here.”

Minseok’s hot breath sent a shiver of pleasure through Jongdae’s body, and when he lowered his lips to skim his neck, he felt the urge to grab something, _anything_ , in order to keep his hands from roaming to places where they shouldn’t. Jongdae felt like he had lost control of his body when Minseok’s hot tongue made contact with the side of the column of his neck, and a groan tore from his throat, causing his eyes to roll backwards ever so slightly. Jongdae squeezed the side of Minseok’s thigh, gathering a small fist full of his leggings. His fingers craved the soft skin, the muscles, that he knew would be under the fabric. The craving for Minseok’s lips grew stronger the more Minseok ravaged his neck with deep roaming kisses.

“ _Min—_ ” Jongdae went to rest his head against the elevator wall, but Minseok had caught him in the act. Minseok had every intention of keeping him from being in control, even his own body. Minseok had hit a spot, _the_ spot, where his neck ended and his collarbone began, and he arched his hips at the same time a moan much deeper than the last roared from his throat.

Jongdae couldn’t take it anymore. The teasing made him feel like he was about to explode. He clamped down on Minseok’s waist _hard_ , which sent a gasp passing through Minseok’s lips, and pulled him as close as he could possibly get him. It had taken less than a second to flip Minseok over onto the elevator floor, pure shock written across his face. Jongdae took no time climbing on top Minseok, tearing the baton of authority from his grasp.

“Let’s see who’s really in charge,” Jongdae taunted.

Minseok arched his hips, putting just the smallest amount of pressure against his own hips.

“Fu—” Jongdae bit down on his lip fast enough before the profanity could escape his lips.

He lowered his lips down onto Minseok’s. The kiss was like drinking in the freshest air Jongdae had ever tasted, even though Minseok was a piece of forbidden fruit that should have never been plucked, and yet here he was, indulging in his deepest desires. Jongdae sat up a little straighter, pulling Minseok up by the collar of his white tee, supporting his neck by looping his hands and fingers around its base.

And in one swift movement, Minseok ripped the shirt over his head and from his body, exposing his hard, toned chest that had been suffocated by the shirt. He was practically drooling when his eyes dropped down to where his tone abs had been crunched like a washboard. A small, thin line of hair trailing down the lower abdomen, disappearing just beyond the waistband of his leggings, which were doing absolutely nothing to hide _anything_.

“Don’t you know that it’s impolite to stare?”

Minseok dove and captured Jongdae’s lips on his own, which sent a ripple of pleasure through his entire body. Jongdae clung to Minseok’s body, one arm around his neck, and the palm of his other hand resting against his sculpted chest. He couldn’t stop his hands from roaming, neither of them could. A month’s worth of pent up frustration and hostility towards the other being released and transformed into burning desire. Jongdae felt like his soul was on fire as Minseok’s bottom lip pushed deeper and deeper into his mouth, and Jongdae gladly widened his jaw to grant the entry. It was the first time Jongdae had heard a moan pass through Minseok’s lips, and it was one of the most pleasurable and pleasing sounds that he had ever heard.

But Minseok wouldn’t let Jongdae have the satisfaction of knowing that those addictive lips could get the best of him. Minseok ripped Jongdae from his position on top of him, and groaned in pleasurable frustration.

“Enough of this,” Minseok stood, dragging Jongdae from the floor, and pushed him up against the wall. He thought about how he’d buy Chanyeol another tee at a later time as he ripped the shirt down the middle, pushing either side of the shirt off of Jongdae’s slender body. Jongdae was surprised by the swift strength that had overcome Minseok. The predatory gaze that Minseok held in his eyes as he lowered his gaze down his body and back up again until they locked eyes made Jongdae tremble.

“Hold onto the bar with one hand, and hold onto my shoulder with the other,” Minseok ordered. Jongdae didn’t ask any questions and did as he was told, and it wasn’t until Minseok was forcing Jongdae’s leg around his waist that Jongdae figured out what he wanted. Jongdae kicked himself off of the ground, wrapping both of his legs around Minseok’s waist. Minseok wrapped a strong arm around Jongdae’s back before pressing him into the wall. And when Minseok started rotating his hips against his now extremely sensitive area, Jongdae couldn’t hold himself back. He tilted his head back against the cool tile of the wall, he drove his fingernails into Minseok’s back muscles, clamping down on them hard. Minseok inhaled sharply against the pressure, digging his fingers deeper and harder against Jongdae’s hip.

“ _Minseok_ ,” his name ripped from his mouth involuntarily. Those wretched hips, and the sensation that came with it, made him dizzy—made his want _more_.

Minseok slowed his pace, and Jongdae cursed him for it, “I told you not to say my name like that,” he whispered against his chest, mouth hot against his bare skin, “Or did I stutter?”

Jongdae released a hot breath against Minseok’s ear, and if Minseok backing away from the wall just to slam him back into it was clue enough that he was turned on by the heat, then Jongdae had one weakness under his belt. He ran a hand through Minseok’s thick and lush hair, taking fistfuls of it in his hands and yanking on it softly every once in a while. At one point, Jongdae was convinced that he had heard— _felt_ —Minseok growl.

When Jongdae felt Minseok’s arms start to tremble and give way, he detangled himself from his body, and came down to his height. They stared at one another for a long while. Their sweat glistened in the lust drenched red light, and the longer they looked at one another, the more that the desire in their souls began to recharge. Jongdae dared to take a step, pushing Minseok back just slightly. He pulled Minseok in gently by the chin and placed a gentle kiss against his lips. He knew their lips would be bruised from the pressure from their earlier kisses, but they would deal with that when the time came. Right now, they were exactly where they wanted to be—needed to be.

Even if it had just been an act of lust, when Minseok pulled away, he could see the regret slowly growing in Jongdae’s eyes. So, Minseok let himself be the first to back away.

“I’m so sorry,” Minseok whispered, running a nervous hand through his hair, picking up the discarded clothes from the floor. He let Jongdae have the white tee that he had been wearing during the simulation training, and used the discarded jacket to himself.

Jongdae didn’t say a thing as Minseok smashed his hand against the emergency stop button, rebooting the system to be fully operational once more.

Minseok leaned his head against the elevator doors, and feels the frustration beginning to build in the back of his mind. He knew that Jongdae had recently been involved with Baekhyun, at least that’s what he had heard from reliable sources. Even if what just happened had been remotely serious, Minseok knew that he stood no chance against nearly half a decades worth of pawning and intrigue.

Minseok pushed the button that would take him to the ground floor of the the station where the training rooms were located. Neither Jongdae nor Minseok said a single word on the short ride from one floor to another. When the doors opened, Minseok stepped out and turned to face Jongdae.

“Forget it,” Minseok reluctantly demanded, “It meant nothing. From this moment on, everything will go back to normal.”

Minseok sighed through his nostrils and looked in every and any direction other than at Jongdae, “I’m going to be staying down here and in some other points of the station for the next couple of days. You and Baekhyun are more than welcome to sleep in the bed.”

Minseok crushed the button to send the elevator up to the floor directly above them, and Jongdae had no time to answer, to say _anything_ , to explain, before the door clicked shut.

Minseok’s words wracked in his brain.

 _It meant nothing_.

_Everything will go back to normal._

Jongdae shut his eyes to prevent any sort of tears from falling. How the fuck were things supposed to go back to normal, when they had never been normal in the first place?


	26. CHAPTER 26: TEAM EX'ACT

It had been several days since the elevator incident had passed. Minseok had hardly said anything to Jongdae other than keeping the team updated on various galactic affairs. They talked during meals, but Jongdae was sure that the only reason for that was to keep the others from being suspicious. It wasn’t enough for Jongdae. Minseok said that things were going to go back to normal, but it had felt far from that.

It was early morning, and Jongdae had been awoken by the brief ringing of Minseok’s desk phone. He cracked open his eyes to see Minseok sitting at his usual spot at his desk, his free hand shielding his eyes by way of frustration, most likely.

“Sir, I—” Minseok sits up a little straighter in his chair, letting out a nearly inaudible sigh, “Yes, sir, I understand.”

And then hangs up the phone.

Jongdae quietly sits up in the bed, the very one that Minseok had offered to him and Baekhyun just days ago, and lets his feet dangle over the side. It isn’t until Minseok stands and starts putting together several files worth of paperwork that he realized Jongdae was staring, waiting for him. Jongdae opened his mouth to say something, to get Minseok to talk to him, even if it was just for a short while, but he knew the opportunity was lost when he realized that Minseok’s eyes were locked on a sleeping Baekhyun. Minseok just gathered the files in his arms and made a straight path for the door, leaving Jongdae alone, again.

Jongdae sighed as he stood from the bed. He turned to see Kyungsoo and Junmyeon sitting on the couch closest to Kyungsoo’s side of the room. He tousled his hair for a moment until he was satisfied with how the his hair felt, and made his way over where they sat.

“Good morning,” Jongdae yawned.

Junmyeon took a large sip of coffee, nodding in acknowledgement of his greeting. Kyungsoo shot his a tired smile, “Morning, did you sleep any better last night?”

He shook his head, scratching the back of his neck, “It’s been difficult trying to sleep lately.”

Junmyeon lifted his lips from his coffee cup and flashed him a questioning look, “Has something been bothering you?”

Jongdae settled for shaking his head instead of confiding in them for advice. No one could ever know about what happened between him and Minseok. He still couldn’t determine whether he felt ashamed of himself for keeping the secret from those who he cared for most, or because he let Minseok walk off alone without giving him even a proper explanation.

Jongdae tried to find any excuse to change the subject, “Who was Minseok on the phone with just now?”

Kyungsoo shifted on the couch, stretching his legs out in front of him and letting them rest of the coffee table, “The Captain. Rumor has it that he’s being sent on some sort of solo mission.”

Jongdae could feel his eyebrows furrow in concern, “A solo mission? Where did you hear that?”

Kyungsoo pointed his thumb in Junmyeon’s direction, who tried to look as oblivious to the accusation, “Junmyeon is Minseok’s second-in-command, whatever Minseok knows, Junmyeon knows—well, at least for the most part. It’s his job. If Minseok needs to be absent for whatever reason, Junmyeon takes over the responsibilities here at headquarters.”

“So, he’s leaving?”

Kyungsoo and Junmyeon nodded in unison, “It seems to be that way, as of right now, the plan is set in stone until the Captain decides to revoke it.”

“And how often does that happen?”

“Not often, fortunately,” Kyungsoo admits, “I’d rather deal with Minseok’s moody ass all day than listen to Junmyeon complain about how he can never find any of Minseok’s files.”

Junmyeon kicked the side of Kyungsoo’s thigh at the comment, who chuckled in response.

Minseok was going on a mission. _Alone_. Jongdae felt his stomach sink to his feet at the thought of something bad happening to him.

“Is there a reason he’s being sent alone?” Jongdae pondered, “Don’t you— _we_ —all typically go together?”

Kyungsoo and Junmyeon exchanged a silent, indecipherable look. Junmyeon cleared his throat as he set his coffee cup down on the table, “We might be a team, but the Captain does what he wants. He makes decision based on what will benefit the organization, and if that means sending one man instead of five—or nine—then who are we to question his authority? Minseok has been working for the Captain a lot longer than any of us, they have history—a lot of which is still left unspoken. There are times where the Captain will send Minseok on solo assignments, it happens ever so often. The Captain sees Minseok as expendable in many variations of the term, but he’s resilient. Tough. He always finds his ways back to us.”

Jongdae felt little relief in Junmyeon’s confidence.

“What was the longest that you guys have been separated from him?”

Junmyeon and Kyungsoo turned to one another, both of them trying to rack a number in their brains. After several seconds, Junmyeon turned back and said, “Give or take six months.”

Jongdae thought of Minseok’s story about Luhan, someone else the Captain probably viewed in a very similar way to Minseok. Dispensable. Disposable. The Captain didn’t care about what they were risking, as long as it benefited the cause, he could care less about whether Minseok—any of his men—made it out alive or not.

His mind wandered to how he would miss the way Minseok’s hands caressed the curves of his body, the way his lips—

He shook the thought away, banishing it somewhere far, far away. He felt a warm hand wrap around the curve of his shoulder, and when he looked up he saw a sheepish Baekhyun smiling down at him. Jongdae forced himself to smile a weak smile in his general direction before clasping his own had over Baekhyun’s.

Baekhyun placed his head in the crook of Jongdae’s neck, yawning a tired sigh into the skin, “Good morning.”

Jongdae hummed a noise of agreeance as Baekhyun pressed a long kiss behind his ear.

“Do you want some coffee?”

Baekhyun made his way over to where a fresh pot of coffee had been brewing, and Jongdae only shook his head in response, pushing himself up and away from the conversation he was having with Junmyeon, and taking a seat at the dining table. After Baekhyun fetched his routine cup of coffee, they sat together for a while in silence, which wasn’t entirely unusual for them. Both of them were slow risers in the morning, it took them a considerable amount of time to wake up, and sitting in silence was better than having anything even related to small talk.

In the hour or so that passed, the thoughts that plagued Jongdae’s mind went in waves. If he wasn’t thinking about the way that Minseok was blatantly ignoring him, then he was thinking about their heated kiss, and now that he knew about the mission Minseok was supposed to embark on, that would slipped in through the cracks occasionally, as well. He let out a noise of frustration which drew Baekhyun’s attention from across the room, where he had moved to in order to change for the day.

“What’s going on, Dae?” Baekhyun called out, “Is something bothering you?”

Jongdae turned in his chair, just enough for him to crane his neck and shake his head, somewhat annoyed that this was now the second time today was asking him this, “I’m just a little tired that’s all.”

Baekhyun shot him a weak smile as Yixing and Jongin entered the room, all geared up in the standard ACE training gear. Both of his friends greeted him, and he reciprocated their efforts.

Jongdae straightened his back as Minseok walked through the sliding door, a much larger stack of papers in hand, and headed straight for his work desk. He knew it would be hopeless to try and get his attention. He was somewhat grateful, and not, that his other members were about to leave the room. Baekhyun strolled over to where Jongdae had been brooding, pressing soft kisses along the outline of the column of this throat, whispering against it, “I’ll be back in a little bit.”

Jongdae just nodded and smiled in acknowledgement, and when the three of them were gone, he twirled in his chair to find that Minseok had been watching the entire time. He averted his eyes as the redness in his face started to fade.

“When were you planning on telling me that you were going to be leaving?”

The question was out before Jongdae could stop himself. Minseok paused for a moment in the midst of fumbling with the piles of paper, “And how did you know that I was leaving?”

Jongdae stood from his seat and walked across the room, standing a considerable distance away from the desk to prevent Minseok from feeling uncomfortable, “I heard you on the phone this morning.”

Minseok scoffed, “Even in the short time I’ve known you, you never have been a good liar, Kim Jongdae. ”

His shoulders fell limp, “Fine, Junmyeon and Kyungsoo told me about it. I just don’t see why—”

“Good to know,” Minseok interjected, making a mental note of who he was planning on scolding later in the day now.

“It’s not their fault,” Jongdae asserted, “I was the one who asked.”

Minseok went back to sorting and organizing the things that were on his desk, “Maybe you should stay out of other people’s business.”

He was tired of this. The differential treatment, the blatant ignoring, “You said that things were going to go back to normal.”

Minseok slapped a file down on the table, “Stop this, Jongdae. Not here, not now.”

“There’s not one person here—”

“There are _always_ people here,” Minseok reminded him. “You of all people seem to have forgotten the key points of stealth and observation, Jongdae. There are eyes and ears everywhere, even where you least expect them.”

Jongdae sighed, “Just—please...I can’t take it anymore.”

Minseok glanced to him from underneath his long lashes, his shuffling paused once more,  “Don’t do this, Jongdae.”

“No,” Jongdae asserted, “Take your own advice. You promised me that things would go back to normal. Don’t push me away.”

Minseok studied Jongdae for a long moment, and he was unsure as to whether this was good sign for him or not. Jongdae did whatever he could to convey the apology that was written in his heart through his eyes, but Minseok had turned a blind eye.

“I didn’t promise you anything, Jongdae,” Minseok said matter-of-factly, “I told you once that I would never promise you a single thing ever again, and I plan on keeping my word.”

The words felt like a slap in the face, and Jongdae could never understand how Minseok could be such a different person from who he was in that elevator just days ago.

“No.” Jongdae’s voice was stern, insistent. He wasn’t going to let Minseok run off and avoid him like nothing had happened between them. “You also said you would become someone I could trust. Someone whose promises I could rely on. Now, you're just acting like someone I don't even know.”

It was now Minseok’s turn to be taken aback, and it was the most expressive look that Jongdae had seen on his face in days. If he wasn’t staring blankly at his computer, he was in meetings, and if he wasn’t doing either of those things, he was sitting at the kitchen table shuffling through stacks and stacks of reports. Jongdae was convinced that Minseok was doing all he could to busy himself with work, whether it was actually his own work or not. Either way, there was a clear implication that he was doing everything and anything to stay detached from the conversation.

Minseok sighed, a cold draft ran in between them, and then...nothing. Absolute, heart-stopping silence. Jongdae knew an answer when he saw one—or not, in this case.

“So, that’s it? You’re just going to run away?” Jongdae sneered. “We both know that’s what you’re doing. You’re using this mission, whatever it may be, to escape the truth that you’re trying to push away. And to think…”

Minseok’s head jerked up at Jongdae’s trailing words.

“I guess…” Jongdae swallowed his pride, biting down on his lip to keep his eyes dry, “I guess it meant nothing, didn’t it? You played me for a fool, Kim Minseok.”

Jongdae brushed away the stray tear that betrayed him and when he turned back to Minseok, he suddenly looked like he had a million things to say, but Jongdae’s frustration, the anger, had boiled over, and he didn’t want to hear anything anymore. At least, not right now.

“And to think that I was starting to trust you.” The words felt like a lie, and it had taken him this long to determine that he had put nearly all of his trust in Minseok for a while now, but he wouldn’t let him have to satisfaction of knowing that.

He turned on his heel and started to make his way out of the room, and when Minseok’s voice called out to him, he forced his legs to keep moving.

“Jongdae…”

Jongdae slammed his fist down hard on the button that would unlatch the lock on the sliding door, and walked out.

Minseok was dumbfounded by Jongdae’s boldness. He collapsed down into his chair and rested his head on the desk. He felt like he could finally breathe. Whenever he and Jongdae were stuck in the same room together, he felt like he couldn’t concentrate on anything. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take flipping through pieces of scrap paper that he had gathered just to make it seem like he was busy with something important. When in reality, deep down, he was tearing himself apart, and for what? He had spent the last several days weighing the consequences that would fall down on him if anyone found out about the feelings that lingered in the back of his mind. Whether it was lust, or something else, whatever it was, it was there. Torturing him, tormenting him.

He didn’t like to see Jongdae go through a similar sort of suffering, but the minute that Minseok saw the regret that filled Jongdae’s eyes after he pulled away, he knew that whatever wall that had been broken down between them had been built back up. And Minseok would rather have withdrawn himself completely than try to mend what had already been broken. He knew better than anyone that a person was bound to hurt themselves more trying to put broken pieces back together. The pieces never fit right anyways, and even if he had managed to find all of the pieces, even the dust-like shards that blended in with the floor, and stitch them to fit perfectly, there would still be cracks. So he opted to leave the shattered pieces on the floor, and he would clean up the mess later.

“Minseok?”

He lifted his head at the sound of Sehun’s voice echoing through the room. The younger stood at the foot of the desk, a worried expression present on his face.

“You know, if you’re tired, there’s literally a bed right there.”

One that Minseok didn’t care to climb into, not after knowing that Baekhyun and Jongdae had been sleeping there for days, christening it for themselves doing god knows what. After all, it was Sehun who had nearly walked in on Jongdae and Baekhyun going at it on his couch shortly before Minseok had braved the simulation room. He had also expressed his gratitude in Minseok’s decision to install glass sliding doors for their rooms, regardless of the fact that Sehun has always hated them.

Minseok chuckled and shot Sehun a small smile, “I’m fine, Sehun. Did you need something?”

“Chanyeol is spending the day in the shop working on the new aircraft prototype, and he requires, and I quote, absolute focus and silence.”

“I’m surprised that you didn’t head downstairs to train with the others,” Minseok leaned against the back of the chair.

Sehun pulled up a nearby chair, “You know, I considered that, but before I was able to walk in a got a glimpse of Baekhyun and immediately turned away.”

And for the first time in a long time, Minseok and Sehun were in agreeance.

~

Jongdae sat up against the wall across from the taupe door that separated him from the empty room that Minseok had been fighting his way through just several days ago. Jongdae didn’t dare disclose its location, not even to Baekhyun, who was completely oblivious to the fact that the simulation rooms were just around the corner from the physical training grounds.

Jongdae found himself coming here whenever he needed time to think about the last several days. A small sliver of desire dwelled deep inside of him; he had hoped that Minseok would around that corner, even if it was only long enough for him to spot him sitting there and then walk away, but that moment never came.

He thought about the binding and breathtaking labyrinth that Minseok had imbedded in some deep corner of his mind. Even though it had all been a forgery of the one that most likely dazzled in Minseok’s imagination, and had only been able to see it through a computer screen, the sight of the sleek, lucent walls had overwhelmed Jongdae greatly. He thought of the way the light hit the ice made it look like bright, noiseless lavender lightning stretched across the walls. The beauty of it all left Jongdae in awe, it was everything he wanted his lightning to be.

Cordial, yet beguiling.

But it wasn’t. It could never be. His lightning was, and always had been, blood red. A bad omen for lightning bearers, regardless of the strength that was associated with red lightning. From the very beginning, lightning elementals had been divided into their own subgroups based on the color that was associated with their power. The most common of the nine was white, and it was the kind of lightning that Jongdae had always envied.

It didn’t take Jongdae long to learn that even amidst lightning elementalists there was excessive conflict. White lightning wielders nicknamed themselves _the divine_ because of their lightning’s natural color association to purity. But it was nothing more than an excuse for them to abuse their abilities to in attempts overpower those who flourish under a rarer color of lightning. The divines are the largest group, but they are also the weakest, so most people believed that they need the strength of numbers to intimidate others. And for the most part, it worked.

Red lightning handlers were the second strongest of the nine. The rarer the color of a person’s lightning, the stronger that person was. The strongest individuals were those who were capable of manifesting a shade of violet, one so deep that it was borderline black. For every two hundred divines, there was one violet wielder, but their gap in strength was monstrous. A violet lightning controller could snap their fingers and blow at least fifty divines out of the water. It’s what made them the most revered of their kind.

Naturally, red lightning elementals, like himself, were considered to be second best. And regardless of their impressive strength, other elementalists that fell outside the tight borders of the lightning label, primarily those who were other light-related elementals or those of water, were the first to bastardize the reds. People considered red lightning to be a grim omen because its common association with violence and destruction. A greater majority of other elementalists found this counterintuitive and ironic, seeing as they labelled lightning in general as dangerous and catastrophic, when in actuality it was far beyond that. It was a spark of life, one that flashes across the sky, silent and captivating. Jongdae was convinced that the reason people believed lightning to be terrifying is because it’s brother, thunder, shakes the universe around them.

It had been a known fact that individuals who could naturally wield lightning were becoming a dying breed. As the years passed, news of the decline in births of lightning elementals did not come as a shock to anyone. It had been a gradual process of decline, one that no one had been able to offer any logical explanation. Their kind had already been especially rare, but now the line of lightning bearers was starting to wear thin.

Jongdae could feel the itch of the lightning under his skin that craved to be released, and he knew there was no point in scratching it because no relief would come until he unsheathed the monster that was deep inside of him. He continued to stare across the hallway at the door. It taunted him, sang to his soul, and he couldn’t help but push himself up from the floor and make his way closer to it.

He couldn’t help but wonder if Minseok had heard the vague call of his own name, the same way that Jongdae had in that moment. His chest burned, ache, with the desire of wanting to submit himself to whatever was just beyond that door, and when his hand fell upon the door knob, he could feel a jolt of energy run through him. Not too long after, he heard and felt a click under his fingers as the door willed itself open. The room was a stark white, and not only that, it was completely and utterly empty. It had all seemed like an enormous waste of space, but once the door had shut with a soft thud behind him, the room dimmed ever so slightly.

A loud, sudden beeping had filled the air around him, followed by a mechanic and automated sounding voice, “Welcome to your sim. Please confirm that all of the collected information and data is correct. If so, please say _correct_.”

Jongdae had noticed that there was no projector or screen that would be able to display any sort of information, and was wholly surprised when the information had been displayed across the blank, white wall.

Name: Kim Jongdae

Age: 26

Element: Light — Lightning

Home Planet: Saturn

“Correct,” Jongdae’s voice echoed around the room, and when his personal information disappeared, the lights had dimmed even more.

The same automated voice sounded around the room, “Welcome, Kim Jongdae, to your simulation test. Your test will comprise of one single phase, which has been given no time restraints. You may take as long as you need to complete the simulation, but once you start, you may not exit until your task has been completed. Any interruptions or disturbances due to outside forces will pull you from the simulation, and will bring you back to your present reality. You may only attempt simulations once a day.”

He let the words turn over in his head for a moment. He couldn’t help but wonder if each of the other ACE members were given certain limitations, or if they all worked through a simulation without any.

“Kim Jongdae. Lightning elementalists are one of the most rare breeds that make up the elemental population. As you may or may not know, the color of a wielders lightning signifies the color of their soul ribbon, which is the artificial manifestation of the color of a person’s soul. A person’s ribbon will take on different forms depending on the individual. For you, it comes in the form of a lightning bolt. Your task is to locate your soul ribbon, once it has been located, you will have passed your first simulation test. Do you accept your quest?”

Jongdae considered the task and the terms that came with it. He had heard many myths and legends about certain people who claimed that they could physically see their soul ribbon with their own eyes. He had never been convinced that this was the case, as it had always been nothing more than a bunch of hearsay, but the artificial intelligence of the room had known about that very legend. One that claimed that each and every person in the galaxy had one of these ribbons, and it would take a true believer for them to see the physical embodiment of it. He wasn’t surprised to know that those who were able to control and wield lightning could find their ribbon in the form of a single strand of lightning, one of the most powerful forces in the universe—a mix of light, fire, and strength wrapped into one component.

Jongdae cleared his throat, “I accept.”

The room had gone too quiet, it was nearly deafening. It wasn’t until an intense buzzing and flash of bright, blinding light crackled around him. Hundreds and hundreds of lightning bolts of various colors on the color spectrum filled the space around him. The white walls fell away, and he was shrouded in the middle of pitch black darkness, save for the light being omitted from the long strands of lightning. The room had expanded into nothing, and it was hard to tell where the strands of lightning even began, or where they ended. He was lost in a sea of multi-colored bolts, and if he hadn’t been a lightning specialist, he would have probably perished under the intense heat of it all.

He wasn’t even entirely sure where to begin. He knew that he could eliminate all of the colors of the color wheel except for red, but he assumed that if his simulation was going to be anything like Minseok’s, he would only have one chance to pick the correct bolt. He would have to be careful in selecting the appropriate one, having to do his best not to bump into any of the other lightning bolts that cascaded around him.

Jongdae took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He imagined the forest of lightning clearing of everything except for the bolts of red, hoping to weigh the options that would be left. He safely assumed that since red was a rare particular color of lightning that he would swiftly be able to get a feel for one that might have matched his own ribbon. But when he opened his eyes, he had been met with the chaos that he tried to block out. He loosed a sigh of frustration, feeling overwhelmed by the sea of color that spread out around him. He wanted to reach out and touch one, wondering if the bolts would burn him—especially ones that were not his own. But he wouldn’t risk it, not for his first time.

He took a step forward, and he figured that this would be the beginning of a long hunt for his own soul. The bolts that surrounded him avoiding him as if he were a negative anomaly. This may or may not have been a good indicator that would help him in finding that lone bolt. He extended his arm to the nearest strand of lightning, and at first, it had recoiled, but not too long after it pulled itself back closer to Jongdae, wrapping and winding itself around his arm like a spring. There was no pain, no heat, just what felt like a light, feathery stroke up his arm. Just before it reached the base of his shoulder, it transformed into a fine mist-like smoke, and faded into nothing. A strong sense of confusion, and a sudden realization that the simulation wouldn’t eject him from the room if his choice was incorrect, had struck him.

He chose to ignore the larger selection of lightning bolts that ranged from vibrant greens to muted whites and found himself chasing each and every red strand that he could find. There were not many of them, which hadn’t surprised him whatsoever, but the ones that he had approached had disappeared in a similar fashion to that first strand he had touched. He could feel himself getting tired from running back and forth between the long distances that separated each of the red lightning bolts, and he wished that his ribbon would give him a sign—something, _anything_.

Jongdae shut his eyes for a brief moment and let the statically charged energy run through his veins. He could feel the familiar rush of adrenaline that came with his power flowing through him, but when he opened his eyes, he saw nothing. Not even the smallest spark of his lightning filled the space in between his fingers. An onslaught of panic had settled over him as he made each and every attempt to summon his ability, which yielded no success. He couldn’t understand what was happening, he had seen Minseok summon and develop weapons made of solid ice in thin air with no problem at all. His lightning refused to be summoned.

He repeated this process several more times before deciding that the effort wasn’t worth the energy that was being spent. He needed to find the soul ribbon that had been stripped from him, hoping that once it has been located it would yield answers to the many questions that swarm his mind.

Jongdae frantically stormed through the sea of lightning as if he were Zeus incarnate. The lightning folded around him, sheltering him outside dangers that were not there.

He could feel his blood boiling and screaming as he got closer and closer to one particular strand of red lightning, and he sighed in relief. This one, this strand had to be it. He stood before the bolt that moved in each and every direction. It would not, could not, stay still, as if it were restlessly trapped in this very spot. Jongdae stretched his arm out to greet it, and for a torturously long moment, the bolt resisted, and refused to move a single inch closer or further away from him. But when it started to inch itself closer, Jongdae felt like he could breathe again. It snaked itself around Jongdae’s body until it was out of his field of vision. It snuck up on his from behind, slowly forming and contorting to fit into the lines and bends of Jongdae’s neck and torso. This particular strand of lightning felt cool to the touch. Even though Jongdae was fully clothed, he could feel the icy burn against the skin that had been protected by shirt he had slept in the night before. The icy feeling felt like a burden and a comfort all at once, and he wanted nothing more than to embrace it with his whole being, but ever so often the a sudden spurt of intense heat would flare up from under his skin, and the rising desire to push it off grew.

“ _Jongdae_.”

Baekhyun’s voice bloomed around him. It sounded like it had come from overhead, as if there were a speaker directly above him. His eyes searched and searched for the source of the voice, but there was nothing and no one else in the room, save for himself and the field of lightning.

“Baek—Baekhyun?” His voice was a soft. It wasn’t a whisper, but it also hadn’t been loud enough for just anyone to hear.

The red lightning continued to curl and snake around him, the numb icy burn gradually faded into a permanent fierce fiery warmth. He felt like he was suffocating, the lightning was a living python that was squeezing the life out of Jongdae, pushing the air from his lungs with each crushing movement.  

“ _Jongdae_ …”

The blood in Jongdae’s veins froze as Minseok’s voice passed somewhere direction in front of him. He frantically searched the room for any sign of the leader, but he didn’t allow himself to get his hopes up, not after what had happened earlier in the day.

Jongdae felt overwhelmingly disoriented as the lightning continued to cut of any air flow that was left. He shut his eyes, trying to forget about the lightning strand that wrapped itself around his neck. He wanted to claw and tear it away, but he feared that if he made even the most subtle of movements that the lightning would knock him out.

“Jongdae,” Minseok’s voice purred, “Look at me.”

His eyes sprang open, but this time when he opened his eyes the field of lightning had been cleared, save for his strand of red lightning, and several violet strands. An occasional orange or white strand lingered, but the sea of bolts had been reduced enough to make Jongdae feel less smothered.

Directly in front of him was a single violet strand of lightning, but it differed greatly from the other ones that surrounded him. It’s color was a drastic shade deeper than that of its brothers and sisters. If someone who knew absolutely nothing about lightning, and the colors that were granted to lightning bearers, they would have probably mistaken it for black, which was naturally impossible. Jongdae knew better. It was unmistakably violet, it just mimicked a shade of vantablack.

Jongdae thought about how similar his scenario was in relation to Minseok’s. When Jongdae had been given the opportunity to view Minseok’s simulation, he wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. He was still learning what he could about ACE, their organization, and the sort of methods they used to train the individuals who worked for them. He would have never guessed that _this_ sort of training was required of them. It felt underwhelmingly sadistic. Jongdae wish he could say that this process was what surprised him the most during his time here thus far, but he couldn’t because it wasn’t. What had truly shocked him was when his own voice had shined through during Minseok’s simulation. He didn’t know what it meant, and based on the look that had been on Minseok’s face at the time, he hadn’t been able to decipher it either. And now that Minseok’s voice overpowered Baekhyun’s—the same way his voice has pushed through Luhan’s—he couldn’t help but wonder if it was his mind recalling what he had seen, an audible projection of what was nagging him in the back of his mind, or if it had all been nothing more than pure coincidence.

He took what constricted and heavy steps that he could closer to the dark strand of lightning that blended into the dark around him. The red lightning that was wrapped around him refused to let go, to unleash him from its desperately firm grip, as he took another step closer to the violet bolt. It was beautiful, one of the most stunning strands he had ever seen with his two eyes, even if it all was an illusion. He could feel a cool breeze pass through him as the lightning now got closer to _him_. He thanked whatever gods he had given up on long ago for the brief moment of mercy as the red strand of lightning made him feel like he was about to be dipped in searing hot lava.

He felt like something had taken over his body. His mind went completely and utterly blank, as if it had been emptied of all memories and emotions. He knew nothing, felt nothing, but was keenly aware of the violent violet-black bolt that was reaching out to melt itself against Jongdae’s skin. His heart pounded so hard against his chest that he knew that he would be feeling the ache in his chest for several hours after he calmed down. The energy that was being omitted from the violet strand felt dangerous, aggressive, and even with the small space that separated one from the other, it had felt like someone was branding dry ice to his burning skin. And just as his fingertips were about to make contact with that burning icy pain, he could hear a loud pounding noise coming from the door that seemed to be hundreds of feet away, Minseok’s voice calling out to him just beyond it.

“ _JONGDAE_!”

Jongdae retracted his hand at the very moment that the violet-black static ribbon was going to latch onto him. He turned his head in the direction of the door that Minseok had pulled open, and before he could call back to him, Jongdae felt the world around him spinning, fast and unforgiving. When he opened his eyes, he was sitting in the near-blinding white room that Jongdae had entered what felt like minutes ago. He blinked _hard_ several times, until Minseok’s face came into focus in front of him.

“Jongdae... _Dae_?! Can you hear me?” Minseok’s frantic voice rang through his ears. He muttered to himself, “Fuck…”

Little to Minseok’s knowledge was that Jongdae could hear everything that fell from those cursed lips.

“What did you just call me?”

Minseok was pinned to where he was squatting over him. There was a brief moment of silence before he cleared his throat, face reddening at the realization, “It was an accident.”

“An accident—”

“What the _fuck_ were you thinking, Jongdae?” Minseok’s voice was much louder now. “How could you just come in here—listen to me, these rooms are dangerous, you cannot come in here without proper clearance, which you do not have. Thankfully you can hear properly, these rooms can produce heavy side effects the first several times after you’re pulled from them.”

After days of being ignored, it was awfully disorienting to hear Minseok scold him the way he was, a heavy concern laced in each word he spoke.

Minseok shook his head, biting down on his bottom lip to keep what he really thought from escaping, “Can you stand?”

Jongdae pushed himself off of the floor, with Minseok’s help, who tightly gripped his forearm to help pull him up. His first few steps were shaking, but it didn’t take long for the sense of vertigo to fade.

“Good,” Minseok ran a hand through his dark hair, and loosed another sigh, “Now, get out.”

“What?”

“Don’t make me say it twice,” Minseok warned.

Jongdae took several long strides towards the door, but his hand hovered over the door knob as he approached. He couldn’t bring himself to open it, not when he finally had Minseok alone, and he was actually speaking to him. He couldn’t bring himself to face Minseok as he said, “So, it takes me nearly passing out—losing part of my sanity, supposedly—for you to even _look_ at me?”

He could hear Minseok from behind turning towards him hesitantly, but he remained silent.

“What was it?” Jongdae speculated, “How long have you truly hated me? Or have you hated me this whole time. Was it only me who thought that we had a shot at being friends, at being…”

He shook the thoughts away as the sting of anger started to boil in the back of his throat. Just as he was about to let his hand fall on the knob of the door, Minseok had pulled on his shoulder, forcing Jongdae to face him, and slammed him into the door. Minseok raised his hand hesitantly to Jongdae’s face, not sure as to how Jongdae would react to the gesture. It took every muscle in Jongdae’s weak body to refrain from leaning into the touch. Minseok opened his mouth to say something, but Jongdae wouldn’t give him the chance.

The words that escaped Jongdae’s lips were just below a whisper, it might have even been difficult for Minseok to hear if he hadn’t been so close to his face, “Did you hate me when you kissed me? Or, perhaps you hate me now _because_ you kissed me...and because I kissed you back.”

Whatever facade Minseok had put up to shield himself from Jongdae was breaking, piece by piece. He looked physically pained by the words, “Minseok... _please_ , I’m just trying to understand. Whatever I did...whatever I said. Just tell me what I can do to remedy all of this.”

The crease between Minseok’s brow showed how much he was wrestling with his thoughts. The downturn of his mouth showed how much those thoughts troubled him. Minseok took a shuddering breath and looked Jongdae dead in the eyes. Perhaps it was a mistake because Jongdae’s eyes were glistening with unshed tears, the pain in them shining through clear as day. Jongdae was always so open around those he trusted and was familiar with.This was no different; he had no barriers up and all Minseok could see was the hurt he caused. Minseok had hurt him to the point that he believed Minseok _hated_ him. He could scoff at how wrong Jongdae was. Hatred was the last thing he felt regarding the younger. His thumb traced along the blunt of Jongdae’s cheekbone almost reverently. The result of his action was instantaneous, a small shudder running through Jongdae’s body, followed by a shaky exhale.

The breath ends in a fragile “ _Minseok_ ,” and Minseok felt his already feeble self control unravel. Their faces are mere inches apart and it took almost no effort at all for him to lean in, angling to slot his mouth with Jongdae’s tempting one, to once again taste his name as it fell from Jongdae’s tongue. He felt the way Jongdae leaned into his palm, felt him go lax in his hold. Jongdae’s eyes closed with a flutter of lashes, heart seizing with anticipation as well as a plethora of other emotions. Minseok was so close now he can feel Jongdae’s breath against his own lips. A small breeze would be all it took to seal them together but it took all the force of a hurricane for Minseok to alter his path and turn his head a moment before. His lower lip brushed Jongdae’s cheek as Minseok leaned his forehead against the door beside Jongdae’s head, utterly defeated.

“I don’t…” Minseok’s mind nearly spun with how close Jongdae was to him, their bodies lined up and pressed against the other from thigh to chest. He closed his eyes as small trembles travel through Jongdae’s body, or maybe it was his own? Or maybe it was the two of them…It didn’t matter much to him, not when he could smell the scent of his own shampoo lingering on Jongdae’s hair, not when he was holding his whole world in his palm, “I could _never_ hate you, Jongdae.”

Minseok’s body slumped over his own, exhausted, perhaps defeated, and Jongdae wanted nothing more than to collapse under Minseok’s touch, wanted to surrender himself completely and wholly to the truth that he knew must have taken everything in Minseok to admit, but he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. Minseok’s sudden confession changed everything and nothing. Minseok cared, he at least knew that now. Over the last several weeks, he had been able to glean that Minseok wasn’t a man of many words, and even when he was, it was difficult to tell whether he was lying straight through his teeth, or if he was being completely genuine. Trying to understand Kim Minseok was an uphill battle, one that Jongdae had accepted long ago, but the further he trekked, the more noticed that Minseok’s behavior had become increasingly sporadic. It was hard to tell what he wanted. One minute they will be passive and cold towards one another, and the next moment they’ll be mere seconds from embracing one another, just as they were now.

Jongdae felt Minseok pull away ever so slightly, just enough for their eyes to meet once more.

“Jongdae, please,” Minseok pleaded, “Because I care about you...please leave, and do not come back here.”

The simulation rooms had been a whole new sort of wonder in and of themselves, and Jongdae understood why Minseok kept coming back to them. There was a numb sort of thrill associated with the way the rooms were designed, how they were capable of understanding as much as they did about the participants. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to wrap his brain around it.

Jongdae’s hand was still on the handle of the door, and when he had yielded no answer in return, Minseok placed his hand atop Jongdae’s for the briefest of moments and yanked the door open.

“Leave,” Minseok ordered, “Now.”

Jongdae’s eyebrows furrowed. Their chests had been pressed up against each other’s, the door pushing the two of them even closer together than they already had been. For a split second, Jongdae didn’t want to move. He wanted to relish in each moment that he could get with Minseok, even if it meant not talking at all, but he wanted answers. Answers to questions that he hadn’t even formed. Minseok took a large step back, giving Jongdae enough room to slip out of their confining position.

“And what about you?” Jongdae blurted out.

Minseok shook his head disapprovingly, almost disappointed, but Jongdae had been surprised nonetheless by how Minseok was capable of understanding what he had meant by the question, “It is too late for me, Jongdae. Far too late. But for you...well, this is only the beginning for you, and as you might know, I promised someone that I would keep you from embracing the tragic fate that I had been exposed to. I will not let that be you.”

It wasn’t a promise, but it sure felt like one if Jongdae was concerned about it. If he had read close enough in between the lines he could feel the underlying promise that was embedded there.

“And what will you let me be, Minseok?” Jongdae breathed, “As far as I’m concerned, you can’t even tell me who _you_ are. Hell, you can’t even bother to give me the time of day whenever I try to speak with you, to try and figure out what is going on here between us. So, what gives you the right to make these choices for me?”

Jongdae could see Minseok’s facade faltering, wavering, right before his very eyes. He was nearly there. He was nearly passed those walls that Minseok had built up to keep him out—to keep everyone out. Jongdae wasn’t sure how many more pushes he would need to hit open air, but he knew that he was close enough. That in itself seemed like a victory.

“Stop making all of these trivial decisions for me, and if you decide that you’re going to ignore that command, then start thinking about this next choice for me. I’m tired of going back and forth with you Minseok, and even if you won’t say it, I can tell you are as well. So pick one...either embrace me in that frozen, glassy heart of yours, or push me off the of the plank that is keeping me from plunging into your endless sea of regrets. Because if you don’t, then I’ll jump.”

If Jongdae didn’t know any better, he would have sworn that Minseok was a statue, he had gone so incredibly still. There was sheer contemplating lining each and every one of Minseok’s features. Jongdae pushed Minseok away, just enough for him step around him, as if he were nothing more than object blocking his path.

“I’ll give you whatever reasonable amount of time you might need to make a decision,” Jongdae warned as he stepped just beyond the doorframe. “But...just know that I’m not going to wait long. Even if your decision doesn’t match mine, you’ll know where to find me.”

And without any hint of hesitation, he dragged his heavy feet down the hall, and in the direction of where he knew Baekhyun would most likely be waiting for him.


	27. CHAPTER 27: JONGDAE & BAEKHYUN

Jongdae stormed through the glass doors of Kyungsoo and Minseok’s bedroom, and there was not a living soul in sight save for Baekhyun, who was dragging the harness that he had been wearing for training from about his neck. 

“Dae?” The harness fell with a soft thud onto the floor when Baekhyun spotted him, “You don’t look good, what’s going on?”

Baekhyun rushed from the sofa and made his way to where Jongdae had come to a sudden halt just a little ways beyond the door.

“Talk to me, Jongdae,” Baekhyun’s voice was filled with chilling worry. Jongdae found it refreshing to know that at least  _ someone _ was consistently concerned.

He just shook his head, and it was enough of an answer for Baekhyun to drop the conversation for a moment. Jongdae pushed passed Baekhyun’s furtive touch and strolled over to the edge of Minseok’s bed, heavily plopping down at the foot of it. 

Jongdae sighed, rubbing his temples as Baekhyun crouched down in front of him, leaning his arms on Jongdae’s knees for support. 

“I know you don’t want to talk about it, but whatever it is that has you this tense, just know that I’m here to talk whenever you need to,” Baekhyun gathered one of Jongdae’s hands in his, gently and lazily stroking it with his thumb. 

Jongdae placed his free hand over Baekhyun’s and spared him a small tired smile, “Thank you, Baek. Truly.”

Baekhyun returned his smile, “Is there anything that I can do for you?”

A thousand different thoughts swarmed Jongdae’s mind. He wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted, but he knew of one thing for sure, “Kiss me.”

Baekhyun flinched in surprised at the request, “What?”

He hadn’t been sure if he had heard Jongdae right, or if it had been a short-lived day dream. Jongdae leaned and lowered his face closer to Baekhyun’s, angling it just the way that he liked. Baekhyun couldn’t help but swallow the hope that was rising in his chest. Jongdae was so close to his face that he could feel the warmth radiating off of him, his words a warm, coddling embrace against his own lips, “Kiss me, Baek... _ please _ .”

Jongdae’s voice was husky, even when he was whispering, and Baekhyun could feel butterflies swarming his stomach. Jongdae’s lips were painfully close to his own, and he wanted nothing more than for Jongdae to be the one to kiss  _ him _ , but instead he dipped upward ever so slightly and pressed his lips firmly to Jongdae’s. A small sigh escaped Jongdae as he shut his eyes, stealing his hand back from Baekhyun’s grip, and cupped his cheek. Neither of them dared to move for a long moment; they just allowed themselves to relish in their closeness. It wasn’t until Jongdae pushed his bottom lip under Baekhyun’s top one that he could feel his excitement travel throughout the greater majority of his body. 

Baekhyun was vaguely aware of the ache that started to settle in his calf muscles, but he pushed it to the back of his mind when Jongdae placed both hands on either side of his face, pulling him so fast and far forward that he was brought to his knees. His arms circled Jongdae’s waist in an attempt to steady himself. Baekhyun could feel an amusing smile sprawl across Jongdae’s lips in acknowledgement of the effort, only for Jongdae to force himself deeper passed Baekhyun’s lips. A low growl rumbled through the base of his throat as he was dragged closer and closer to Jongdae’s body.

The kiss picked up in pace much more quickly than Baekhyun had anticipated. They hungrily, but slowly, search each other with their hands. Their tongues. And it had taken all the strength in Baekhyun’s aching legs to lift Jongdae from the edge of the bed to carry him to the couch, neither of them even daring to pull their lips away from the other. They pulled apart just long enough for Baekhyun to set Jongdae down onto the cushions of the couch. Baekhyun straddled his waist, using his arms to grip the backboard of the couch to support his back. Being apart felt like ages, even though only a few seconds had passed between them. 

Baekhyun had craved Jongdae for a long time, and when they finally kissed nearly a week prior, it were as if Jongdae’s lightning had been transferred to him. His veins were lit aflame by the burning electric current that coursed through his veins. Years worth of genuine dislike of the other, and then another few years of playful bantering, had led them here. Baekhyun knew if he had the opportunity to start over and do it all again, knowing that this would be the outcome, he would do it. 

Jongdae was absolutely unforgiving as he bit down on Baekhyun’s bottom lip, pulling it with his teeth to pull him closer. A moan passed through his teeth as Baekhyun went to cup the nape of Jongdae’s neck. A satisfied smirk was drilled into Jongdae’s features as he sucked on Baekhyun’s bottom lip. 

Baekhyun ripped himself away from Jongdae’s wicked oral grasp and pushed their foreheads together, a low growl escaped him uttering, “What the hell are you doing to me, Dae?”

Jongdae didn’t bother answering as he tightly gripped the sides of Baekhyun’s shirt, slipping a couple of icy fingers beneath it. Jongdae knew that he had Baekhyun wrapped around his finger when he arched his back at the touch. He noticed that Baekhyun was slightly biting down on his lip, unable to bring himself to look at him, so Jongdae took the opportunity to push the white tee up his slim torso, exposing the sleek and smooth skin that lay underneath. Baekhyun snatch up Jongdae’s hand, placing it behind his head, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I want to see you, Baek,” Jongdae confessed, “ _ All _ of you.”

It had taken Baekhyun this long to grasp the lust-filled stare that glazed Jongdae’s deep brown eyes. Baekhyun couldn’t stop the tingling feeling that he felt in the sensitive parts of his fingertips, and when Jongdae arched his hips upward, pressing up against the most sensitive part of his body, he let his head fall back, clasping his hand down onto Jongdae’s shoulder and giving it a slight squeeze.

A desperate whine escaped his lips when Jongdae pulled the white tee over Baekhyun’s head, tossing and discarding it onto the floor just in front of them. 

Jongdae admired the smooth, yet chiseled muscles of Baekhyun’s body, and he allowed his eyes to scan the toned abdominal muscles that probably ached from his training session. He ran his hands across either side of Baekhyun’s lower abdomen, one hand gripping his hip bone, which the other brushed light, feathery strokes across the peaks and valleys of his stomach. Jongdae never realized just how much muscle Baekhyun had on him until now, regardless of the many times he had seen him change or get ready for bed. But seeing Baekhyun above him now, eyes closed, and breathing slightly heavier than normal, Jongdae couldn’t help but admire the beauty that was Byun Baekhyun. His throat and lips were drier than a Martian desert, and it just so happened to be Jongdae’s luck that Baekhyun’s eyes cracked open at the same time that he dragged his tongue across his parched lips, teeth clamping down to keep any noises as bay. 

Baekhyun seated himself closer on Jongdae’s lap, his beautiful slender hands resting on his shoulders. His stare was absolutely lethal, and Jongdae was seconds away from considering himself a goner when Baekhyun commented, “I love when you stare at me like that.” 

Jongdae could feel a blush creeping up his face and he tried to look away, but Baekhyun wouldn’t allow him to budge, so he muttered, “How do I stare at you, Baek?”

Baekhyun’s gaze deepened— _ darkened _ —as he pressed his hips into Jongdae’s abdomen, snarling with pleasure, “Like you want to eat me.”

The blush on his face deepened, and Jongdae was convinced that his face was practically on fire, but one stroke of Baekhyun grinding himself up against the pressure that had built up in both of them pushed the embarrassment far,  _ far _ away. 

“But it’s okay,” Baekhyun tauntingly whispered against his lips, “Because that’s all I’ve ever wanted to do to you.”

Jongdae gulped, “You talk too much, Byun Baekhyun.”

He pulled Baekhyun down by the hair to meet his lips, and as painful as it was, Baekhyun found himself riled up because of it. Jongdae was wreaking havoc on Baekhyun’s lips, and as many times as he lined his lips with his tongue, Baekhyun refused to allowed him any entry. A new sense of frustration began to well up in Jongdae to the point where he didn’t care for Baekhyun’s endless teasing. He broke through his lips with his tongue, pulling Baekhyun’s head to the side for better access. 

Baekhyun was breathless as Jongdae’s tongue swept him up in great, long, slow strides. He could feel himself getting dizzy with pleasure, and he was almost satisfied with the idea that Jongdae was going to swallow him whole, and he relished in his smugness when he forced himself to pull away from Jongdae’s grasp and a small whine fell from the younger’s lips. He pulled at the hem of Jongdae’s shirt, and he had the shirt up and over his head before Baekhyun could even get it past his navel. A resounding hum of desire echoed throughout Baekhyun’s chest when Jongdae began fumbling with the edge of his waistband.

Jongdae looked like a desperate man who had just found an oasis in the middle of the desert, longing for a drink of something, anything, as he studied the bulge that had formed in Baekhyun’s pants. And when Jongdae dared to peek up at Baekhyun through his long lashes, he noticed Baekhyun doing the very same thing, and instead of being turned off by the sight, he felt the back of his neck get hotter and hotter. 

Before Baekhyun could noticed the realization that he had made, Jongdae pushed one of his hand up Baekhyun’s inner thigh, the other pulling the sight closer to him, “Do you like looking at yourself like this?”

Baekhyun lifted his eyes from the lump in his pants and met Jongdae’s seductive stare, “Usually? No.”

“And now?”

Jongdae watched as Baekhyun’s Adam’s apple bobbed at the base of his throat, “And now...I’m imagining things I shouldn’t.”

Jongdae dared to push his hand further,  _ closer _ , to the swollen member in Baekhyun’s pants, and he noticed that Baekhyun was shaking under his touch. 

“Tell me what you want,” Jongdae demanded, lightly stroking side of the protrusion through the fabric of the training pants with his nail. 

Baekhyun couldn’t stop himself from lurching forward, pressing himself into Jongdae’s solid middle. The touch was sadistically addictive. A short wave of pleasure ran through him as he dug his nails into the skin of Jongdae’s shoulder. 

“Baekhyun,” Jongdae growled from beneath him, “ _ Tell me what you want _ .”

It was an order, a demand, and Baekhyun would answer to no one except Jongdae. He sucked in a sharp breath, and exhaled with a tight, “ _ You _ .”

And when Jongdae wrapped his firm grip around his pulsing erection, a sob ripped through Baekhyun’s lips. He didn’t even know that he could feel the things that he was feeling as Jongdae rubbed and down the fabric that blocked his burning hand from the skin that throbbed and ached beneath it. The ravaging feline stare that had fallen across Jongdae’s eyes pinned Baekhyun to the spot, leaving him defenseless for when Jongdae flipped him and settled himself in between his thighs. He dragged his hand up the space in between Baekhyun’s thighs, the animal-like whimpering and whining was clue enough that Baekhyun was desperate for his touch, and Jongdae would deliver. Baekhyun gasped at the contact of Jongdae’s hand against one of the more sensitive areas of his body, and he couldn’t hold back the moans as Jongdae fondled him. 

“ _ Jongdae _ ,” Baekhyun whimpered. 

Jongdae applied a little more pressure, and when Baekhyun arched his back again, forcing his hip upward slightly, he bent down to kiss the sensitive spots that lined Baekhyun’s hip bone. He lightly scraped his teeth against the soft skin, stamping long, yearning kisses against each of those sensitive spots. Baekhyun’s hands plunged into Jongdae’s dark hair, pushing him further down into the skin, gathering chunks of hair in his fist ever so often before releasing his hold. 

“Your lips…” Baekhyun moaned, “They feel so good against my—”

Jongdae interrupted him by sucking on a patch of skin just below his navel, causing Baekhyun’s breath to catch in his throat. 

He would suck on the skin until it turned an angry shade of red, and then would blow on the spots to counter the heat that most likely built there. He knew he had Baekhyun’s stamp of approval as he shuttered out shaky breaths of pleasure. 

“Keep…” Another hitch of the breath, “ _ going _ .”

Jongdae chuckled against Baekhyun’s hot, throbbing skin, playfully biting some of the more ticklish spots that he knew of. And to his surprise, instead of flinching, Baekhyun just pushed Jongdae deeping into the skin. But he forced himself away and pushed himself up Baekhyun’s body until he was directly above his face. 

He hovered there for a moment, pushing away some of the stray pieces of hair that were glued to the sweat across Baekhyun’s forehead, “You’re beautiful.”

Jongdae could see Baekhyun crumbling at the words, and whatever lustful desire that was flowing through their veins began to dissipate. 

“Come here,” Baekhyun whispered, holding his arms open just enough for Jongdae to fit into the crook of his neck.

Both of them were sticky with sweat, but neither of them minded as Baekhyun pulled Jongdae to him, cradling him in his arms. Jongdae wrapped an arm around Baekhyun’s middle, lightly caressing his skin with his thumb, kneading it ever so slightly. Baekhyun loosed a comfortable sigh at the touch. 

They stayed like that for a long while, and when both of them started to get the feeling that someone could walk in at any moment, Jongdae sat up and gathered both of their discarded shirts and sat up on the couch. He rested his head on Baekhyun’s shoulder, his body scrunched up against the cushions, legs sprawled across his lap.

Jongdae cleared his throat as he began unconsciously tapping that familiar pattern against Baekhyun’s arm, “How long have you felt like this, Baek?”

Baekhyun craned his neck a bit to scan Jongdae’s face, and he didn’t need any clarification regarding the question that lingered there. Strangely enough, he wasn’t scared to talk about how he felt. He had spent all of these years panicking about how Jongdae was going to find out before he was ready to tell him, but now that the truth was out there in the open, he couldn’t feel more secure in having this conversation with him now.

“You don’t have to answer, of course, I was just—”

Baekhyun pressed the gentlest and sweetest kiss against Jongdae’s lips, and when he pulled away he cupped his face, stroking his satin-like skin. And the longer he stared into those lustrous eyes of his, the more he could feel the truth bubbling deep within him.

“I think the first time I thought I felt  _ anything _ was that day on Europa, all of those years ago,” he confessed, “I thought that we were both going to die...and I almost came clean to you right then and there, but it just didn’t feel like the right time. In that moment, I was just so scared that I was going to lose you.”

Jongdae crinkled his eyebrows, “But...I was never yours, especially back then. Hell, we couldn’t even go minutes without nearly killing each other. And yet, you were going to sacrifice yourself so that I could live...”

Baekhyun further wrapped his arm around the back of Jongdae’s neck, recalling the very moment that he was alluding to. He remembered loosening his grip on Jongdae’s arm, mentally preparing himself to meet the angry blazing flames that were rising and building directly below them, “You’re right, Jongdae. You were never mine...and part of me still feel that that’s still the case, but I—oh god— _ I  _ have always been  _ yours _ .”

He paused to swallow back the tears that were forming in his eyes, “I...I wanted you to live, even if it meant sacrificing everything. Absolutely  _ everything _ . This life, that mission, the possibility that maybe...just maybe you felt something to. I didn’t even think twice about any of it.”

Jongdae shook his head, the most pure mixed look of shock and denial quickly washing over his features, “Didn’t you ever think about how that decision, if you had decided to go through with it, would have affected all of us? Me. Yixing. Jongin. You are important to each and every one of us, Baek. As happy as I am that I was able to keep you with us that day, you shouldn’t ever feel like you need to be the martyr here. We are one.”

Baekhyun felt a tear falling down the side of his face as Jongdae spoke, who lifted his hand to brush the stray tear away. 

“I have always been on your side, Baek. Whatever happens, I’m with you. Always. I will never let you feel like you’re alone, or that you need to sacrifice yourself for something that is too great for any of us to understand. Death will come for each of us one day, and if it comes for you, or me, or Yixing, or Jongin—as selfish as it sounds, I hope it would take us together.”

Baekhyun was shaking against Jongdae’s newfound embrace. The tears just kept flowing, and it no longer matter how hard Jongdae tried to wipe them away, fresh tears would just dampen the skin once more.

Jongdae looked up into Baekhyun’s now red eyes and lightly ran his fingers across his temples, and after a short while, he pressed his lips to that very spot, murmuring against the skin, “Don’t cry Baekhyunnie.”

“You promise that you won’t go anywhere?” Baekhyun’s voice was weak, hoarse from crying, “No matter what?”

Jongdae pressed his forehead to Baekhyun’s, “Why would I ever leave you, Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun loosed a shaky breath, “We’ve known each other for a while, Dae...but there are still things you don’t know about me. Things that I’ve done, decision that I regret making…”

“Shhhh,” Jongdae cooed, “You don’t need to tell me anything, that’s all in that past. Right? The person you were back then, that’s not the person you are now. Whatever you did...it can’t be as awful as you claim.”

Baekhyun shook his head, “Jongdae—”

“Stop,” Jongdae interjected, “No one could possibly know you better than those who love you. Yixing, Jongin, and I...we know you better than anyone in this galaxy. Hell, we probably know you better than you know yourself.”

Baekhyun blinked away the remaining tears that teetered on his bottom lashes.

“He’s right you know,” Yixing’s voice rang throughout the room behind them. 

Both of them broke apart, just enough for them to turn to see their leader standing across the room against the frame of the door. He pushed himself away from the door and crossed the room to join them on the couch.

“I hate to break apart your touching moment,” Yixing claimed rather insincerely, “but I have some news for both of you.”

Baekhyun unleashed his arms from around Jongdae and turned to face Yixing.

Yixing leaned up against the cushion, and eyed both of his best friends—his family. It took everything in him to keep the eye contact, “Minseok’s solo mission, it’s been confirmed and approved.”

Jongdae felt his heart sinking in his chest, and in its place was a well of anxiety.

“But that’s not all,” Yixing added.

Baekhyun and Jongdae looked to one another, confusion slowly crept up their faces. 

Yixing rest his hand against Baekhyun’s arm, which was still shaking from the conversation he had just had with Jongdae, and smiled a tired smile, “The Captain...he is sending me with him.”

A deafening silence filled the room around them. It was so quiet that Jongdae could hear the silent ringing that lingered beyond his ear drums. Baekhyun didn’t even dare to move a muscle, he wanted it all to be a bad dream, that he’d wake up and Yixing would be standing there making him breakfast just as he usually did. But the pain in his heart was enough for him to know that it was real. 

Jongdae couldn’t help but worry. He knew how dangerous two-person mission were, even though he had never been on one himself, he had heard enough stories to know that a lot could go wrong.  

“Try not to stress about it too much,” Yixing assured, sensing the trouble that lingered in their veins, “We will only be gone for a couple of days, and then we’ll be back.”

“You can’t give us any information?” Baekhyun begged.

Yixing shook his head, “It is a need-to-know basis, and neither of you need to be concerned with the details. So, please, don’t worry. Just...take care of Jongin while I’m away, do you understand?”

It was real. He wanted it to be a lie.

Yixing was leaving.

Minseok was leaving.

And even with two of the people who meant the whole world sitting right next to him, Jongdae felt abandoned.


	28. CHAPTER 28: YIXING & MINSEOK

Minseok and Yixing opted for leaving in the middle of night to keep from having to say any kind of goodbye. Goodbyes felt too permanent for Minseok, and Yixing didn’t want to be bombarded once again by the onslaught of questions that Jongdae and Baekhyun had been harassing him with ever since he told them the news.

This would be the first mission that minseok would go on where it would just be him and one other person. Typically, if it was him and the other ACE members, he felt completely calm and collected. One could say that he oozed the confidence that a leader should have, but now that it was just the two of them, he felt uneasy. 

It had been the Captain’s last minute decision to send Yixing with him, and only because the mission had a stealth aspect to it. According to the Captain, Yixing was a valuable asset in a situation like this—someone who knew the ins and outs of Alpha’s entire operation, and would and should be able to decipher any codes that may be unfamiliar to ACE. However, the mission was strictly classified. A need-to-know basis kind of mission, and besides the Captain, the only people who even knew the most minute details were Yixing and himself.

Minseok knew that Yixing was a good liar. He had been standing outside the room as he told Jongdae and Baekhyun about the news regarding the mission. They didn’t even flinch when Yixing had told them that the two of them would only be gone a couple of days. In reality, this mission would take as long as it needed until they gathered all of the requested intel. If anything, a couple of days would be the least amount of time needed to gather all the information, but if they hit a snag anywhere in their plan they could be much, much longer. 

Minseok had spent the last several days analyzing and memorizing each and every detail of the operation details card that the Captain had handed over to them. An anonymous tip came on regarding Alpha’s movements from one of the galaxy to the next. The tipster had informed them that Alpha was making his way to the inner planetary system to try his luck with the citizens there once again. Minseok assumes the Mercury would be his first target in his quest for galactic dominance, even though the greater majority of planets were secured under ACE’s reign. It was now his and Yixing’s job to confirm the supplied information for themselves. If there was nothing to follow up on, they could return home until their next assignment. But if there was a trail for them to follow...they could only imagine how long it would take them to get home.

Yixing had decided to do all of the flying, considering that Minseok had been an awful pilot. However, he prided himself in racing street air cruisers prior to his enlistment with the Captain, but official aircrafts were an entirely different breed.

They had spent the greater majority of their time sitting in silence. Minseok basking in the information that swirled in his mind, and Yixing made himself out to be  _ too _ focused on managing the aircraft that Minseok had gotten the hint long before they even took off. So when Yixing finally opened his mouth to say something, it took Minseok by surprise.

“I know it’s none of my business, but as his leader, I’m going to make it my business,” Yixing asserted, “I need you to tell me whatever is going on between you and Jongdae.”

The inquirely wasn’t exactly unexpected, even Junmyeon had been pressing Minseok about the newfound friendship, or whatever people wanted to call it, that had blossomed between the two of them. However, he wished that people wouldn’t ask. He wanted to do everything to keep his friendship with the younger on the downlow, in order to avoid confrontation with the Captain. He wanted to keep Jongdae safe from the Captain’s clutches, he had promised Luhan that he would. 

“There’s nothing to say,” And it hadn’t been a lie entirely, because even though Yixing had asked, he wasn’t entirely sure what to say.

Minseok could feel Yixing’s incriminating stare drilling holes on the side of his face, “That’s bullshit, and we both know it. Jongdae knows it. Baekhyun knows it. Everyone knows it Minseok.”

“What do you want me to say?” Minseok turned away from the computer screen to face the other leader, “Do you want me to admit that I care for him?”

Yixing scoffed, “That’s not new information...we all know that you’ve grown to care for him, regardless of the circumstance.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Yixing rolled his eyes, placing the craft into autopilot, “When are you going to admit to yourself that you are keeping Jongdae around because he reminds you of someone from your past?”

Minseok felt like he had been slapped across the face as he jumped up from his seat, he took several large strides to where Yixing was seating, grabbing him by the collar, “Don’t you dare assume that this is about Luhan.”

“Did I hit a sore spot?” Yixing raised an eyebrow with that cocky smirk plastered across his face.

Minseok threw Yixing down against the back of the pilot’s seat, “You know nothing.”

“Then tell me, Minseok,” Yixing’s voice reverted to its sincere, curious tone, “Tell me that I’m wrong—that everyone is wrong—and that Jongdae is just more than just a replacement for someone who you’ve been guilting yourself over for all of these years.”

Minseok swallowed his pride as he returned to the co-pilot’s seat, “Jongdae...he’s so much more than that.”

Yixing was just continued to stare at him with that accusatory stare on his face.

Minseok sighed, “He is everything that Luhan was, but is also everything that he was not. Perhaps Jongdae is someone that Luhan could have been if he had lived to see today. At least that’s what I would hope for. It’s no secret that the ACE members, and it seems that the three of you, as well, believe that I see Luhan in Jongdae. They, therefore, believe that I’m only clinging onto him because he’s an embodiment of something,  _ someone _ , that is familiar and dear to me. And perhaps in the beginning, they were right, but the more I learned him, the more I realized just how different they are from one another. It took a particular situation, which I cannot disclose, to realize that I had been wrong to group Jongdae with Luhan. So, for that I apologize.”

“Jongdae...he’s always be special,” Yixing replied. “He’s struggled the most out of all of us, as I have mentioned before. Our whole team consisted of light elementals, and each of us has a different skill or specialty as you have come to figure out. You probably already knew that prior to even meeting any of us.”

Minseok made a small noise of agreement.

“Nonetheless, Jongdae was sort of the black sheep. While he was not the last member to join Rogue, it always seemed that he was either five steps ahead of everyone or he was ten steps behind. There wasn’t much of an in between. I saw a lot of myself in him, and it pained me to see someone that I considered to be my younger brother struggle to find his place amongst the ranks that Alpha had installed for Rogue. We are—were —supposed to be a top of the class, elite stealth operative team, but in reality, we were just a ragtag group of young men who didn’t know what they wanted. We all just sort of wound up in the same place at the same time, and we’ve been inseparable ever since. Even though it took several years for Baek and Jongdae to come around to one another.”

“So you’re saying that they haven’t always been some close with one another?”

Yixing shook his head furiously, “Oh dear god, no. Baekhyun was the last to join our group, and Jongdae could never stand his boastful and prideful attitude. They were, and still are, complete opposites. But there was that incident that happened on Europa...that was the day that made them realize that deep down they care about each other a lot more than they were letting on. Sometimes it takes a life or death situation to bring about the truth. The  _ real _ truth.” 

“Everyone keeps talking about this incident,” Minseok pondered, “I remember when it happened, headquarters spent months trying to clear their name, considering that people were accusing ACE for the bombing.”

“You’re saying that ACE didn’t do it?” 

He glanced in Yixing’s direction, who looked perplexed by Minseok’s admission, “I’m the Captain’s right hand man. While I haven’t been able to pick up rank, for reasons that are beyond my control, a lot of people respect me. I attend each and every one of the meetings that are conducted by headquarters, and from these meetings I am able to glean information regarding each and every classified and declassified mission in ACE’s long history. I think I would have remembered a planned attack on Europa if there had been one.”

“You don’t think that the Captain would have just kept it a secret? Even from you?”

Minseok hesitates, “The Captain does what he wants for the betterment of the galaxy. Plus, if I don’t hear about things directly from the Captain, I hear it from people directly below him. A trail of information finds its way to me somehow.”

Yixing unleashed a frustrated, yet confused sigh, “But the people we fought...they were all ACE. We were completely surrounded.  bomb itself was directly from ACE. There are no others like it in this system. ”

Minseok went to search a private archive that held any and all files to ever exist in ACE’s mission records. Access to such a database was only granted to high ranking officials, and was strictly confidential, but he scrolled to the letter  _ E _ in an effort to look for any mission directly related to the moon, Europa, but came up with nothing. Other than something about a trade deal with a local mechanic on Jupiter who was going to sell ACE parts for cheap. 

“I’m not seeing anything,” Minseok confesses, “which is odd because…”

But Minseok stopped himself before he could reveal any of the truth that he had discovered weeks prior.

“ _ Because _ what? What is it?” Yixing asked.

Minseok pulled away from the computer, he felt like he was drowning in a pool of instant regret for even allowing the contemplative thought to slip out. He turned to Yixing who looked nervous, yet intrigued all at once.

“Minseok, if you know something, anything, please...tell me.”

He could see the desperation hidden beneath Yixing’s schooled features, and for a moment, Minseok saw himself in the Rogue leader. He knew all too well what it was like, what sort of skill it took, to keep a leash on his own emotions. As leaders, it was their job to empower the men they were prescribed to lead and watch over. Yet, did that make them any less of a human being? 

Minseok moaned in frustration, “What I’m about to tell you is  _ extremely _ classified, do you understand? This information doesn’t leave this room.”

Yixing nodded.

“There are a lot of things that your team doesn’t know…” Minsok began, “and to be frank, I don’t even think it’s my place to tell you  _ any _ of this. Even  _ I _ am not supposed to know, but I got ahold of some documents through a secure and reliable source. Long story short...those files contained very accurate and exhaustive accounts from that day on Europa. Not just that mission, but every single mission that Rogue has ever been sent on.”

Yixing looked taken aback, a crack forming in that perfectly molded exterior, “Rogue?”

Minseok hummed a sound of acknowledgement. 

“What kind of file is this? If it’s so secret, it sounds like it has to be a file that only someone high up would have access to.”

Minseok silently thanked a higher power for that fact that they decided to leave in the 326, the only spacecraft where he knew where all of the hidden microphones were located. He had shut them off prior to leaving headquarters just in case a conversation like this should have come up.

Minseok rubbed the back of his neck to help relieve the building tension that settled there, “As I mentioned, I got this file from an unnamed source, but it is  _ one _ of hundreds and thousands of personal files that only the Captain had access to.”

Yixing scratched at the spot directly above his eyebrow, “So, you’re saying that these Rogue mission details are in someone’s personal file?”

Minseok nodded in confirmation, “These files...they are not just ones that detail where a person is from, or how old someone is. Every ACE operative is given a personal file that details all of that and more. Mission details, progress reports, assignment conclusion reports. It’s essentially how the Captain is able to keep everyone in line, he could use any of that information as an ultimatum to take someone down under.”

“So,” Yixing leaned back in his chair, “If what you’re saying is true...then someone has been spying on Rogue.”

Minseok crossed his legs, “I wish it were that simple.”

The contemplation on Yixing’s face deepend, and Minseok felt like his heart was going to explode. The ache in his chest was starting to burn.

“Whose file is it, Minseok?”

Hesitation had consumed Minseok, and the way that Yixing was eyeing him from just a few feet away made his feel less sure about his decision to share the information with him. He had uncrossed his legs, but he couldn’t control jittery feeling that consumed both of his limbs.

“ _ Minseok _ —”

“Listen to me,” Minseok commanded, “When I tell you...you cannot tell anyone else in your team. Or at least, this is what I advise. The information I’m about to reveal to you is...look, I was surprised, to say the least, but I will leave it to your own judgement as to whether or not you will confront the rest of your team regarding this issue.”

“Just tell me, already!”

Minseok swallowed what little of his pride that he had left, which passed with a shaky breath, “Prior to our mission at Callisto, I requested four files. Throughout the years, it has been our job to help to remedy the space pirate threats that have been sweeping this system, and my team was assigned to keep tabs on yours—Rogue. We had received multiple reports from our own spies that Rogue was supposed to be Alpha’s biggest weapon against, well, anyone who didn’t want to submit to his cause—which, by the way, is nothing more than complete galactic dominance, which he has disguised as civil injustice. So, it was our job to keep the Captain updated on not just Alpha’s movements, but yours, as well. Over the last several years, we hadn’t been able to produce the quality of work that the Captain had demanded of us. So...I made the private executive decision to essentially steal the Captain’s personal files which contained information that he had on each of you.”

“How did you know that he would have those files on us?”

Minseok ran his hand through the back of his hair, “The Captain always knows more than he lets on. I had a strong feeling that he most likely knew everything that he wanted us to seek out about you guys, just to see if we could pull it off, to see if we could prove our usefulness to him. I had gotten all the confirmation I needed for that theory when I received your files. I read through each and every one of them, some of them were longer reads than others—especially one of them in particular.”

“The one that had all of Rogue’s mission details,” Yixing reiterated. 

Minseok dipped his head in agreeance. 

Yixing looked overwhelmingly conflicted, and Minseok understood completely. If he had found out that any of his men had sold them out, or had been a spy for the enemy, he would have felt the same way. 

He could see several tears glistening in Yixing’s eyes, threatening to spill, but he contained them long enough to whisper, “Who—who is it?”

A wave of regret and despair had fallen over Minseok as he stood to stand directly in front of Yixing, a person he had some to silently respect, and to see his heart cracking right before his very eyes made him feel guilty. Minseok leaned against the bare side of the control panel that separated the pilot’s seat from the co-pilots, and he looked down to Yixing with the most apologetic look that he could muster.

Minseok’s voice shook as the name passed through his lips, “It’s—it’s Baekhyun.”

~

Yixing went dangerously still, and for a moment Minseok wondered if he even remembered how to speak. It wasn’t until Yixing’s breathing began to violently pick up, and silent sobs were escaping his mouth. If he was being completely honest with himself, he wasn’t expecting Yixing to break down in this way. He had expected an onslaught of denial, raging anger for even proposing such an absurd conclusion. But it never came.

Yixing took a deep breath and stood to meet Minseok’s stare with those tragically red eyes, “You are sure.”

It wasn’t a question, and Minseok could feel the the cataclysmic distress that was radiating off of Yixing. It felt like a strong heatwave had hit him full force, but he had met enough light elementals to know that this was nothing too uncommon. The truth was out now and there was no way that he could take it back. He reached deep into his uniform coat pocket, pulling a compact hard drive and fingering it in between the both of them. 

“I downloaded all of your files for safekeeping, just in case the Captain found out that I had access to them—which he did. He revoked the access on my own organization-provided computers, but I now have two copies. One on this drive and the other on my personal tablet. No one other than you knows that I have these.”

Minseok pushed the drive into the computer system, pulling the documents up onto the larger screen of the supercomputer for greater clarity. He immediately bypassed Yixing, Jongin, and Jongdae’s profiles, going straight for Baekhyun’s novel sized portfolio. 

Yixing flinched at Baekhyun’s photo. He felt like he was looking at a stranger. Everything he had come to know about the young man, who was like the brother he never had, was all built on a lie. 

“Yixing,” He hadn’t even realized he was stumbling, until Minseok placed a guiding hand on his shoulder, settling him down into the seat in front of the computer. 

“Where do the file records start?” Yixing didn’t care about anything else, he wanted the truth and the whole truth with nothing left out.

Minseok quietly began scrolling through the documents. Tens and tens of pages later, Minseok had settled on the first of many mission concluding reports. Yixing felt completely and utterly sick to his stomach when he saw the words at the top of the page.

ASSOCIATED CULTURES OF ELYXION

ACE

_ OPERATION: ELYXION _

 

STATUS: Highly Classified

 

MESSAGE TYPE: Secured Hardwire

 

PRIORITY: 10

 

AGENT: Byun Baekhyun

 

ORDERS

  * Saturn, Katarik Peninsula 



 

MISSION DETAILS

  * The Captain has summoned you to act on the following mandate.
  * “Byun Baekhyun, you have been exclusively selected for a mission that will greatly impact the continuing success of the ACE organization. From this moment forward, it will be your duty to carry out the following: to **infiltrate** and **gather intel** on the development and operational use of a weaponized stealth operation cadre designed and trained by code-named target and enemy, Alpha, and **dispose** of this threat to our organization.”
  * The following information is highly classified and includes the details of the assigned operatives. Operatives with a star should be your utmost priority.
    * Kim Jongin ***** :
      * Birth Planet: EARTH
      * Position: Ground Stealth Operative 
      * Elementalist?: YES
      * Type: LIGHT — Teleportation
      * Threat Level: 8
    * Zhang Yixing:
      * Birth Planet: VENUS
      * Position: Unknown — Stealth Operative
      * Elementalist? YES
      * Type: LIGHT — Healer
      * Threat Level: 4
    * Kim Jongdae ***** :
      * Birth Planet: SATURN
      * Position: Ground Stealth Operative & Hacker 
      * Elementalist?: YES
      * Type: LIGHT — Lightning & Thunder
      * Threat Level: 9



 

Please indicate whether you accept or deny the mission orders by selecting one of the two options below. You will have one hour to respond upon opening this document.

 

Yixing felt dizzy. The probability of him getting sick was growing at an alarming rate as the information continued to settle and spin in his mind. 

As much as he didn’t want to believe Minseok, he couldn’t argue with authentic documents that had Baekhyun’s own familiar handwriting on them. A painful ache began to grow in his chest, and it wasn’t because his heart was beating wildly just beyond his ribcage. He was convinced that he could hear the sound of his heart shattering and then sinking slowly to the depths of his soul. 

“How long have you known?” Yixing leaned forward, propping himself up by his elbows on his knees.

Minseok looked down at the broken leader, who looked like he was struggling to find words to make any sense of what was going on, “Not very long, only a few weeks at most.”

“Why didn’t you say anything back then? When we first arrived?”

Minseok sighed something that sounded like a mix of defeat and frustration, “I didn’t think it would have been right for me to say anything. Neither of our groups trusted the other, save for Jongdae, who still stands as the middleman between all of us. We might be one whole team now...but, in reality, we aren’t. We are all very,  _ very _ far from that. And because of that distrust, I didn’t think that any of you would have believed me. Just because Jongdae had grown to trust us didn’t mean that any of you had. Baekhyun was, and still is, the worst out of all of you.”

Even though the information, the truth, was still sinking in, Yixing couldn’t help by agree with Minseok’s statement. If he had tried to explain what he had discovered about Baekhyun to each of them when they had first arrived, Yixing himself could admit that he would have shot down everything that would have been presented to him. But now, things were different. He had spent a lot of time learning new things from people like Kyungsoo and Junmyeon, and his mind felt clearer, freer, as a result of their vast well of knowledge. Not only that, but they had taught Yixing how to keep a more open mind than he already had. They could tell that he and Jongin were closed off from the idea of getting close to Minseok especially, and they helped to ease him and assure him that Minseok wasn’t a bad person. That everything he did, every choice he had made up until now, was to fulfill a larger purpose, and he believed them. Especially now that he had confessed the truth he had uncovered regarding Baekhyun’s cover story.

“If anything,” Minseok continued, “I genuinely didn’t want to tell any of you, I didn’t even tell my own members what I had come across. I wanted Baekhyun to tell you himself, because realistically the truth should have come from him. But...now that you know, it’ll be up to you to decide if you’ll urge Baekhyun to tell the others, if you’ll let things play out the way that they’re destined to be, or if you’ll tell Jongin and Jongdae yourself.”

The internal conflict that raged deep inside Yixing was stressful to say the least. Jongdae and Jongin, of all people, deserved to know the truth. Jongdae in particular. Whether Baekhyun genuinely had a change of heart over the years, or whether he was still playing them for the fools that they were acting like, was beyond Yixing’s control, but he couldn’t help but hope for the former. He could only imagine how crushed Jongdae would be whenever he finds out about the real reason why Baekhyun had been brought into Rogue. And for whatever reason, everything seemed to fall into place. Out of the four of them, Baekhyun had been the last of them to join Rogue. The bomb from Europa. Baekhyun’s unnatural impulsive decision to sacrifice himself on that day at Europa. The bomb supposedly going off accidentally at Callisto. Everything started racking up the more that Yixing dwelled on it. 

Yixing scoffed, “It all makes so much sense now, Minseok. All of these things that I had never been able to explain over the last several years, it feels like you just dropped all of the answers to my unanswered questions into my lap. And don’t feel bad about telling me the truth...to be honest, I’d rather be the first to know, especially if I know how the others are going to react. Jongin might take it a better than Jongdae, considering that Jongdae is highly indecisive, particularly when it comes to his feelings. But I’m guessing you already know that.”

Something short of a blush crept up Minseok’s cheeks at the underlying accusation.

“There’s no need to pretend that you don’t feel something for him,” Yixing professed, “After watching Baekhyun’s failed attempt at keeping his feelings to himself, it’s become easier and easier to tell when someone’s feelings for someone else are genuine. However, I can tell that you are struggling with the acceptance of that fondness between the two of you. And it’s not just you who is wrestling with it. The minute Jongdae had contacted us regarding your proposal—to let Rogue converge with ACE—I could tell that there was something different about him. He seemed...content, regardless of the circumstances.”

Minseok considered what Yixing was trying to imply, and he couldn’t argue with the fact that he had noticed Jongdae’s not-so-subtle advancements towards him—their advancements towards each other. He couldn’t help but think about the heated kiss they shared in that elevator just days ago, and how it was the first time Minseok had felt anything like that ever since prior to Luhan’s passing. The kiss had set his soul ablaze, as if the blood that ran through his veins had been set on fire; Jongdae’s electrifying touch had reeled him in, and now he didn’t want to stay away—even though he knew that it was what he needed to do.

He pushed the thoughts away for a more appropriate time. When he had finally come too from his short-lived day dream, Yixing had been staring at him, a million questions lingering in his dark eyes. 

“Thank you, Minseok, really. As hard as it is to accept this sort of truth, I think I would have been crushed even more if I had found out later. So, thank you.”

Minseok placed a hand on Yixing’s shoulder and gave it a small squeeze of reassurance, “We are a team now, or at least we are trying to be. Consider this a small step forward in developing that relationship that we all should be building with one another.”

The small smile that had crept onto Yixing’s face disappeared, “And what about Baekhyun? What’s going to happen to him?”

Minseok loosed as perplexing breath, “I guess the question is...what do  _ you _ want to happen to him? Whatever choice you make in regards to revealing, or not revealing, his true identity will be your answer.”

Yixing gave Minseok’s arm a quick pat as a short sign of gratitude. He knew that he had a lot to think about. There were many consequences that could come out of the reveal to Jongdae and Jongin, whether they were positive or negative. He just wanted the best for all of them, Baekhyun included. 

Baekhyun was a spy,  _ is _ a spy, for ACE. After all of this time and Yixing had never even noticed any signs of him being a double agent. 

Yixing couldn’t help but feel like rewinding the clock back to over a month ago, when things were still normal, when  _ they _ were still normal. He wished for nothing more than to hear the sound of laughter echoing off of their run-down aircraft walls one last time, when things were still simple. 

But Yixing had known better.

He knew that day would never come to pass again. 

The more he read into Baekhyun’s file, studying the information that he had provided to the Captain about Jongin, Jongdae, and himself, the more he had come to embrace that fact that Baekhyun had double-crossed them. 

The betrayal left behind an ache in his heart, and from that day forward, he knew that nothing would ever—could ever—be the same.


	29. CHAPTER 29: TEAM EX'ACT

It hadn’t even been a full two days before Minseok and Yixing returned from the short lived mission that the Captain had assigned them.

Jongdae had been walking around the air hanger, keeping Chanyeol company as he silently worked, when they both noticed the familiar shape of the 326 approaching the station for docking. 

After successfully anchoring themselves to the station on the first try, Minseok and Yixing came down the ramp...together, a sturdy wall of solidarity, it was the most appropriate representation of their leadership.

“What are you doing back so soon?” Chanyeol stood to greet them, wiping his hands with a microfiber cloth. 

The minute Yixing’s eyes fell on Jongdae, the flood of emotions consumed him once more. During his time with Minseok he had decided that he would tell Jongin and Jongdae what he had learned about Baekhyun’s true identity. They both deserved to know, especially Jongdae, who had been wholly engulfed by Baekhyun’s deception. It broke him completely to know just how much Jongdae had been cast under Baekhyun’s wicked spell. But the minute he saw that innocent, untainted smile sprawl across Jongdae’s face, he wasn’t sure if he could bring himself to do it anymore. Even though Jongdae had been through a lot in his life, and had grown from those struggles, Yixing didn’t want to topple whatever happiness that he had finally been able to achieve. He knew all too well how difficult it could be to be happy when their lives were like a hurricane of darkness, and they found themselves directly in the eye of that storm.

Jongdae wrapped his arms around Yixing by means of greeting to welcome him back, and when he pulled away to look at the two of them, a hand still lingering on the small of his back, he smiled a weak smile at them, “Did you guys find what you were looking for?”

Yixing cleared his throat and gave Jongdae’s shoulder a quick reassuring squeeze, “That, and then some.”

“Oh?”

Yixing nodded in confirmation, “We uncovered a lot of... _ unexpected _ information.”

“Well, this is a good thing right?” Chanyeol inquired, eyeing Minseok hopefully, “Both of you will escape the Captain’s wrath, which has been on fire all day today...just as a word of caution for when you both go to see him.”

Minseok sighed in irritation and shoved a hand into his pocket, craning his neck to look at Yixing, “I’d rather get that over with first, if that’s okay with you?”

Yixing stepped out of Jongdae’s grip and nodded in Minseok’s direction, stopping just long enough to turn to Jongdae and sternly demand, “Where is Baek?”

Jongdae’s face twisted with an emotion that Yixing couldn’t place, “He’s with Jongin, they’re exploring the station a bit, I believe.”

It took everything in Yixing to keep from whipping his head in Minseok’s direction. He settled for a sound of acknowledgement before turning away and falling into step with the ACE leader. 

Yixing lowered his voice as they began to put some distance between themselves and the younger members, “Is it really smart for Baekhyun to be waltzing around the ACE station  _ with _ Jongin?”

Minseok grunted, “It doesn’t matter now. Baekhyun probably knows this station just as well as I do. It’s a requirement for all high-level ACE operatives, which would include him.”

“What’s the difference? The levels, I mean.”

They took a direct right out of the air hanger, “Like any place in this universe, there is a sophisticated class system that the original Captain put into place. Not just here, but among all ACE outpost stations. Apparently, it’s supposed to help keep order, preventing chaos and domestic uprising. However, the terms of those class guidelines vary depending on where a group of people is located. Here at headquarters, the lines are very, very narrow. There’s not much room for upward mobility, but plenty of room for a shift downward. And the closer you get to the top, the more cutthroat and ruthless individuals become. I’ve seen whole families torn apart because of their lust for power—brothers fighting brothers; sisters backstabbing each other, all for the chance that they might move up in this system through marriage. They’ll do whatever they can to knock each other down.”

“It sounds like you have some personal experience with this,” Yixing assumed. One that Minseok wished was incorrect. 

Minseok slowly nodded, “Even though I’m an only child, I surpassed my father quickly after I was recruited to essentially be an executioner for the new Captain. My father worked for the former Captain prior to his death. According to some people high up on the social ladder—those who are higher than me—my father’s values clashed with the Captain’s, and so he was sent away to an outpost in the outer rim of this system. Many people suspect that he was sent to a satellite station near the Kuiper belt, but I think there is a good possibility that he might be dead.”

Minseok could have sworn that he saw Yixing trip out of the corner of his eye as they continued down the hallway, “And what makes you think that?”

He shrugged, “No one has heard a single thing from him since he was sent away nearly ten years ago. That, and no one in my family has been granted any sort of access to see him by any means. Ever so often we will get documents that have his name on it, they always find a way to my desk, especially if it has anything to do with espionage or reconnaissance work. Yet, whenever I see his signature, it’s hard to tell if it’s actually his. It’s his name, but the signature seems to gradually change whenever the papers arrive. It’s never the same as the last.”

Yixing didn’t press him for answers, so Minseok took it as an invitation to continue, “As I was saying, only upper level operatives are expected to know where everything is. Each of us are tested on the precise locations of every room that makes up this station. There is a possibility that Baekhyun hasn’t even picked up rank here, and to be honest, it’s hard to tell exactly how long he’s been working for the Captain. Nonetheless, he doesn’t need the rank. Since he’s one of the Captain’s exclusive hitmen, he technically receives the same benefits that I do. The only difference is that I am  _ now  _ a trained official of ACE, an ambassador and leader, and Baekhyun is someone that the Captain keeps shoved in his desk drawer—only opening it when he needs him the most. When I was first conscripted, as any of the other ACE members might have already explained, I was doing exactly what Baekhyun has been assigned to do. I was practically raised by ACE and it’s leaders, and was expected to take my father’s spot when he retired. However, it seemed that the Captain had different plans. Instead of doing public military service, I was recruited and conditioned for work that was far beyond my level of training, at least back then. I was an assassin. And a damn good one if I say so myself. The rest is history.”

Minseok could sense the onslaught of questions that were growing in Yixing’s mind, they were practically radiating off of his slender body.  

“Either way, the mission that Baekhyun has been assigned by the Captain is dragging, pushing over half a decade, and it surprises me that the Captain hasn’t done away with him yet.”

They stopped in front of an elevator, and Minseok hit the top button. Both of them patiently waited for the door to slide open. Yixing scratched the back of his neck, “Why is it surprising?”

When the doors opened to reveal an empty cabin, the two of them entered, settling themselves comfortably against the back wall. Minseok was silent until the doors slid closed and lurched slightly as the elevator quickly ascended, “The Captain has always been a man who prioritizes the utility of his operatives. If they cannot complete tasks assigned to them in a timely manner, then the Captain won’t hesitate to get rid of them. He sees it as nothing more than a flaw in the grand system that keeps the organization going, and there’s no room for error or else the organization will crumb on top of itself. A small mistake in even the most minute details is punishable. I, myself, have never taken more than several weeks to complete an assignment, especially if they are missions assigned to my team.”

“The consequences are that harsh?”

Minseok could feel the familiar, yet vague ache settling in his back muscles, the horrors and harsh memories that have been ingrained into it. The scar tissue that resides there. Flashes of splattered red blood across the Captain’s face as he raised and lowered the rake-like whip over, and over, _and over_. Minseok would have done—would still do—everything and anything to ensure his team members’ escape without punishment. In exchange, he embraced it all on his own. Even from the very beginning, when Minseok hadn’t been able to bring himself to get close to the other ACE members, he swore to himself that each of them would leave this place one day, completely scarless. Maybe not entirely scarless, but he’d ensure that none of those scars would come as a result of the Captain’s hand, as consequence of that cursed whip that he had come to consider his acquaintance. The rush of pain was practically encouraging, and after Luhan had passed on from this life, he found himself seeking out that burning, searing pain. Because, at least for a brief moment, he could feel something.

It wasn’t long after Minseok had made that promise to himself that he had come to break it. He had been called to a private meeting, which never yielded anything remotely good or just. He was early, and invited himself in to find Kyungsoo facing the very fury that he swore to protect him from. From that day onward, the two of them have continued to protect the secret as if it were Sehun, Chanyeol, or Junmyeon—those who hadn’t been tainted by the Captain’s merciless hand. 

It had taken Minseok a considerable amount of time to realize that he hadn’t answered Yixing’s question, but it was too late to do so anyways. The elevator doors slid open to reveal the long, extended corridor that led to the Captain’s office, the usual guards posted just outside the doors. 

Minseok mumbled under his breath, “Whatever you do, do not look  _ anyone _ in the eye, do you understand me?”

“Are you included in that formula?” 

Minseok didn’t need to turn and look at Yixing to know that he had a half-smirk plastered across his face, “Now is not the time.”

He pushed himself off of the elevator wall and cleared the open threshold that separated them and hallway. Minseok should have found it humorous that he could hear Yixing scrambling after him from behind, but he knew that this was neither the time nor place for any kind of shenanigans. 

When he settled in his usual spot in front of the guards, they looked at him with their usual seriously bored stare, “Rank, name, and business.”

Minseok couldn’t help but roll his eyes, “Really?”

“Rank, name—”

“Colonel Kim Minseok,” he interrupted, “We are here report our mission details and findings to the Captain.”

“Operation clearance code.”

“Exodus.”

The guards moved as one, clearing a path for Minseok and Yixing to enter the Captain’s quarters. 

But they weren’t alone.

The Captain stood from his seat as the doors clicked shut, “Ah, right on time.”

Minseok crinkled his brows, allowing his eyes to follow him until they landed on the third party member that he had and hadn’t been expecting.

Yixing was about to continue several steps ahead of Minseok, until Minseok reached out and clasped his hand firmly around the crook of his elbow, pulling him back just enough for them to be shoulder to shoulder.

“Baekhyun…” his named passed through Yixing’s lips as if it were easier than breathing. 

Baekhyun followed the sound of Yixing’s voice, and Minseok could have sworn that Baekhyun had gone several shades paler the minute his eyes landed on them. 

“So it’s true,” It wasn’t a question, even Minseok knew that. 

Baekhyun frantically looked back and forth between them and the Captain, a look of sheer panic settling in each of his fine lines. 

It had been a set up the whole time. Sending him and Yixing out for reconnaissance, it was nothing more than a hoax for the Captain’s real intentions.  

Minseok had discovered the truth about Baekhyun’s identity, what his role in Rogue is actually supposed to be, and if Baekhyun wasn’t going to fulfill his duties then the Captain was going to find some alternative way of getting what he wanted. It was probably for the same reason that the Captain had handed over the Rogue profiles to Minseok when they were embarking on their Callisto mission. It was nothing more than the first step into exposing the truth that he had been hiding for all of this time. The Captain had a plan for everything, and if Baekhyun couldn’t put his feelings aside and find the will to destroy Rogue, then the Captain would find a way for them to turn against each other, starting with Baekhyun.

As a warning, Minseok tightened his grip on Yixing’s elbow, whose knee-jerk reaction was to flinch at the slight pressure, “What are you doing here, Baekhyun?”

“Why don’t we all sit down?” The Captain interjected. Minseok knew it wasn’t a suggestion.

Minseok clamped down on his jaw, and his pride, all the while dragging Yixing to the nearest arrangement of chairs in the middle of the room. Yixing had not been yielding any sort of emotions or reaction as he took a seat directly across from Baekhyun, Minseok opted for standing behind the chair that Yixing had occupied.

“So,” Minseok’s voice echoed throughout the room, “Why don’t we all just address the elephant in the room, shall we?”

The Captain chuckled in amusement as he leaned against the front-most part of his desk, a serious look veiling his features, “Zhang Yixing. I’ve heard many things about you. A natural born leader, full of so much raw, natural strength—Rogue’s  _ Northern Star _ —and yet you  _ cower _ in my best man’s shadow.”

“I do not concede to anyone,” Yixing stated plainly. 

The Captain shook his head, “And yet, you followed Alpha under his rule for over half decade.”

“I did what I had to do in order to protect my men,” Yixing was headstrong and forthcoming, and Minseok couldn’t help but noticed when Yixing’s head turned just enough to pin his eyes on Baekhyun, “I did it for my  _ family _ ...to safeguard each of them from  _ any _ threat that could come their way. Even if it means terminating that threat myself.”

Minseok could feel the tension in the room thickening all around them as a result of Yixing’s not-so subtle threat. Something short of a sigh passed through his lips.

“You are passionately ambitious,” the Captain stated, “A trait that I admire in many of my operatives.”

Yixing balled his hand into a fist until his knuckles turned white. 

“So, gentlemen,” the Captain continued, “Tell me...what did you learn out there?”

Minseok cleared his throat as he folded his arms across his chest, “Alpha’s men are being spread across this system, throughout both the inner and outer planets. However, they are being spread too thin. So, unless they have allies hidden wherever he is relocating his men, it should be an easy victory for us.”

“Good. What else?”

“The civil unrest that you had mentioned in the operation details seemed to be taken care of by the time we had reached out to our contact on Venus,” Minseok scratched the spot in between his eyes for a brief moment before running a hand through his hair, “They claimed that everything had been calm there for months. So, it must have been a false report.”

The Captain nodded, a look short of satisfaction lingered on his face, “And?”

Yixing sat up straighter in the seat, Minseok didn’t think it was possible for his back to get any straighter, “Byun Baekhyun is and always had been a spy for ACE.”

An arrogant smirk ran across the Captain’s face as Baekhyun went utterly still in his seat, eyeing Yixing with a faux sense of disbelief. Over the years, Minseok had come into contact with some of the best liars in the galaxy, ones that he’d had the pleasure of eventually killing. And if he was being honest with himself, there were more of them than he cared to count, but he prided himself in being able to spot a liar from a whole galaxy away, and the sheer look of guilt on Baekhyun’s face spoke for itself. He could tell that Baekhyun was trying to hide the guilt that he was evidently reflecting on, and to be frank, he wasn’t doing a very good job at doing so. His effort was nearly laughable, but Minseok knew he’d be able to manage it long enough to get through this meeting. 

“So, it was always a game to you, wasn’t it?” Yixing accused, “The missions. Rogue…”

A deafening silence filled the room as the unspoken words hung on Yixing’s tongue. 

“... _ Jongdae _ ,” Yixing scoffed, “What do you think  _ he _ is going to say when he learns about this?”

Baekhyun violently shook his head, “Jongdae...Jongdae cannot find out. He can’t—I don’t think I could bring myself to face him.”

Minseok could feel his blood boiling in his veins, “Do you even  _ hear _ yourself? The truth is going to come out. The longer you put it off, the more crushed he is going to be  _ when _ he does find out. I’ve known about who you are for a while, Baekhyun, and I’ve chosen not to say anything because who do you think Jongdae is going to want to hear it from? Certainly not me. He probably wouldn’t even believe me. Why? Because you—one of  _ us _ —are his fucking best friend, someone who he trusts more than he trusts himself. You think he’s going to believe anything I have to say?”

“But if I were to tell him…” Yixing offered, a light air of playfulness dripping from his tongue.

“You wouldn’t,” Baekhyun interjected. 

Yixing hummed a small noise of contemplation, “You’re right, I wouldn’t...at first. But at the end of the day, both Jongdae and Jongin deserve to know...especially, Jongdae. You and I both know that.”

Minseok could see the mix of anger and sadness that manifested in tears that teetered on Baekhyun’s lower lash line, as he managed to croak out, “He’s going to hate me.”

Yixing crossed a leg over his other, “Perhaps...but we are giving you the opportunity to tell him yourself before he finds out through some alternative source. Do the right thing here. If he loves you as much as I think he does, he’ll at least give you the chance to explain yourself.”

A stray tear fell down the side of Baekhyun’s face, he didn’t even make a move to wipe it away.

“ _ Why _ ?” Yixing’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it packed a punch, “How could you do it?”

Baekhyun’s bottom lip wobbled as he sucked in a deep breath, “This is my job. It’s not my place to question the Captain’s orders. He knows what is best for the well-being of the organization.”

Minseok couldn’t help but narrow his eyes at the robotic-sounding, script-like answer. One that he himself knew too well. A lie. One that Baekhyun was, once again, not conveying too well. Whether the Captain was able to notice the obvious fibb falling from his lips, Minseok couldn’t tell. But, if Minseok was able to notice the blatant lie, then the Captain should have been able to see it too. There was no telling what was going on in the fortress that was his mind.

Yixing was completely dumbfounded at the response. He stood so quickly that he ended up knocking the chair into Minseok, “I thought I knew everything there ever was to know about you, Byun Baekhyun...but now...now I see you and I see nothing. I see a stranger that is dressed in your skin; in the skin of someone who I have grown to love with my whole heart, only to learn that they are a wolf in sheep’s clothing, which makes you no better than Alpha.”

The words hit Yixing’s desired target, he knew so when Baekhyun flinched at the ridiculous comparison. 

Yixing sidestepped the table that blocked his path to start towards the door, but he halted just long enough to face Baekhyun once more, “You are going to tell Jongdae...you will. I’m not giving you a choice. I don’t care who you work for. As far as I see it, you work for me just as much as you work for  _ him _ . This will be the last thing that I ever ask of you as your leader, after you do...do whatever you like. I’ll hold off on telling Jongin until you do. Be grateful that I am, at least, sparing you the torment of having to tell both of them, because let’s face it, Baek—telling Jongdae might damn near kill you anyways.”

Yixing didn’t even give Baekhyun an opportunity to respond before he practically teleported from the room, Minseok wasn’t even sure how he had been able to get out of there so quickly. 

Minseok turned to the distraught Baekhyun, who looked like he was several second away from hyperventilating to the point of a breakdown.

The Captain’s cackling laugh tore through the room as he rounded his desk, a lethal stare pinning both Minseok and Baekhyun to their spots. Minseok’s heart was beating so fast he thought it might stop at any moment as the Captain reached for that all-too-familiar drawer. 

“Captain…” Confusion laced Minseok’s voice.

The Captain pulled that blood freezing whip from the drawer and smacked it against the desk, “You know the rules, Kim Minseok. You know I cannot tolerate when an operative’s cover is completely blown—especially when it’s in the face of the enemy.” 

Minseok shook his head, attempting to shake away the nerves that were consuming him, “I understand that, sir, but...please, he’s in my jurisdiction now. Let me take the lead in punishing him. I will see to it personally.”

The Captain’s harsh, unrelenting stare was difficult to hold, but Minseok knew what Baekhyun would be facing if he didn’t save him here and now. Even if he didn’t support the actions that resulted from Baekhyun’s foolish decisions, he was still a member of his team, and he  _ did _ promised himself that he would protect his team members. As much as he would have loved to see the Captain just rip into Baekhyun in the way that he had experienced many times before, he knew that he’d never be able to forgive himself if he had left him to harvest the rotten fruits of that fate.  _ Jongdae _ would never be able to forgive him.

“Very well, Minseok,” the Captain conceded, “We’ll do it your way.”

Minseok didn’t dare let the slight relief he felt flood through him escape his lips.

“Now get out...both of you.”

Neither of them had wasted any time rushing out the door when told to, and when both of them were far off enough from prying ears, Minseok couldn’t even bring himself to feel bad when he shoved Baekhyun into the wall.

“What—”

“You lied in there,” Minseok accused, “and I want to know why.”

“Huh?”

“All of that bullshit about following orders because it’s  _ the right thing to do _ ? Because the Captain  _ knows what’s best _ ? Those are words that we are  _ all _ too familiar with,” Minseok sneered, “So what are you really doing? Why are you  _ really _ here, doing all of this to those Rogue operatives?”

Baekhyun went quiet for a long time, and Minseok was nearly convinced that the sun was going to set before he could offer a reasonable explanation. 

“You must know better than anyone here,” Baekhyun began, “that the Captain will use the people you love as leverage over you.”

Minseok hesitated at first, but nodded at the statement regardless.

“At first...I had accepted the mission for monetary reasons. I had taken the job so that I could provide for myself. I was completely and utterly poor, with no means to take care of myself, and the Captain’s offer had been more than generous. He would have paid me more than enough, just to infiltrate and dispose of three filthy space pirates. I didn’t think it was going to be that hard. That was until I actually met them and got to know them.”

Baekhyun slid his back down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, “The Captain claimed that Jongdae was the primary threat out of the three. It was my job to figure out why he was such a significant threat to the organization, why the ACE profilers had labelled him as such. It hadn’t taken me long to figure it out. Jongdae...he—he is destined to be one of the most powerful lightning wielders to ever live. I have no proof, but I could feel it in my bones from the moment my eyes landed on him. There was just an aura that hit me, sending flashes of images through my mind. Jongdae wielding  _ black _ lightning. And if you are unfamiliar with the classifications of lightning elementals, the color black doesn’t even exist. The scale ranges from white to violet, white being the weakest, violet being the strongest. And Jongdae is destined to surpass  _ all _ of them...that’s why he’s such a huge threat to all of us. To the Captain.

“And I fell in love with him...so hard. I hadn’t been able to realize it until Rogue was sent to Europa by Alpha to handle a brigade of ACE soldiers. It was all a trap. I had set the whole thing up. The soldiers moved on my command, and if anything went wrong, I would send a signal for them to detonate a bomb that should have taken care of all of them in one go. But it wasn’t until Jongdae and I were dangling above one of the hottest fires I had ever felt...that is when I realized that I was in love with him. And suddenly all of my deepest fears had washed over me, I was so afraid that he was going to figure out that I tried to kill him, all of them, and that he would try to get rid of me in return without even hearing me out. It would have been so simple...he could have just dropped me into that fire and let me perish, and who knows where they would be now. Who knows what kind of monster would have taken over the job I had been assigned, and what sort of methods they would have used to kill the men that I had grown to cherish. And even after considering all of those possibilities, I selfishly tried to sacrifice myself to those flames on that day...because I would have rather died right then and there rather than see the look on Jongdae’s face when he learned that it was all because of me.”

Minseok crouched down to Baekhyun’s level on the floor and before he could provide any answer, Baekhyun opened his mouth again to speak.

“The Captain found out about my feelings,” Baekhyun confessed, “and ever since then, he’s been holding Jongdae over my head. Threatening to kill him in the slowest, merciless ways if I don’t do it myself. I’ve been trying to buy as much time as I can so that I can get them all out of here. As far away from the Captain’s reach as they can get.”

Tears were running in streams down Baekhyun’s face as he buried himself in his kees, and Minseok understood the desperate desire in wanting to protect the people that he cared for most. And for once, he considered the possibility that he and Baekhyun were truly not all the different, but the thought passed him by in the fleeting moment.

“And now, Jongdae has landed right into the Captain’s clutches.”

Minseok shook his head, and hit Baekhyun in the leg just for the sake of saying the words aloud, “He hasn’t. I will not let the Captain even so much as harm a single speck of dust that surrounds Jongdae’s body. I swore to myself that I would protect him myself, and it was the last official promise that I made him, as well. In exchange for any extra protection that you may most likely not be able to provide him...you need to come clean. I have been dying inside for the last several weeks, keeping this information to myself. There were many days where I wanted to confess everything to him, but I knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. It needed— _ needs _ —to be you, Baekhyun. You need to tell him everything, and I mean  _ everything _ , do you understand?”

“I can’t—”

“You will,” Minseok ordered, “You  _ will _ . I don’t care what it takes, but you will, because if he somehow manages to find out on his own...I’m afraid that you’ll end up causing more damage than the Captain ever could with that goddamned whip.”


	30. CHAPTER 30: TEAM EX'ACT

As much as he hated to do it, Minseok was forced to leave Baekhyun to his own devices after he had gotten the call from Kyungsoo that Sehun had fallen ill once again. It was extremely rare for any of them to get sick, but whenever someone did, it was always Sehun. Minseok always placed his bets on the fact that it was because he was the youngest of them, and therefore his immune system wasn’t as resistant as the rest of them.

Minseok had found his way into Sehun’s monochromatic bedroom where he saw both Kyungsoo and Junmyeon hovering over the youngest member, “What happened? What’s going on?”

Junmyeon tore his eyes away from Sehun and handed Minseok a manilla folder that he had in his hands, “It’s nothing unusual. He’s had a fever for the last couple of days, and it’s stubborn. It doesn’t want to break, but we’ve been keeping an eye on him ever so often.”

Minseok breathed a sigh of relief, his eyes roaming the blank canvas of the folder that was handed to him, “And what is this?”

Junmyeon nonchalantly rolled his neck back and forth, “Papers that I need you to sign. An attendant brought them to me just now. They must have thought that you were still away on your assignment. Speaking of which, how did that go?”

“Same old,” Minseok responded, keeping the details just at that, folding his arms across his stomach.

The room went silent for several minutes, and Minseok had felt grateful for the fact that they had all been comfortable, almost relishing, in each others’ silence. 

“It’s interesting...” Kyungsoo blurted out, the words hanging from his lips.

Neither Junmyeon nor Minseok made a move to say anything; therefore, Kyungsoo saw this as an invitation to expand on his thought, “...how you claim not to care for anyone, which we all know is complete bullshit, because whenever even the slightest news regarding Sehun comes in it’s as if the world had been set aflame.”

Minseok could feel his ears getting hot at the accusation. If he had gotten along with anyone the most, it was Sehun. He was a lot like the younger sibling which he never had. If anything, Minseok was convinced that even his own parents might not have wanted him to begin with. It had always been difficult to tell, especially when he belonged to a broken military family. His whole life he had been bred for success, and was molded like a stiff piece of clay into his father’s renowned image.

He had spent the greater majority of his childhood attending lavish parties, where some of ACE’s top leaders would get together with their wives and drink unseenly amounts of champaign or, for the men, brown liquors. But behind closed doors, away from the fleeting show of glitz and glamour, Minseok recalled the harsh punishments that his father would give him for even looking at someone the wrong way. When he first starting working for the Captain, Minseok recalled feeling infinitely grateful for those beatings, it had built his pain tolerance well enough that the strike of the Captain’s whip, while painful, could have felt much worse in retrospect. 

The sound of Junmyeon clearing his throat lifted Minseok from his thoughts, “I need that signed by tomorrow morning, so if you could look it over and get it back to me as soon as you can that would be great.”

Minseok felt a pocket of annoyance bubbling inside of him, “You do realize that you are able to sign things in my stead, right?”

“Of course I do,” Junmyeon smirked, “But I just know how much you  _ love _ paperwork.”

Minseok raised his hand to slap Junmyeon in the arm, but had felt satisfied enough when Junmyeon, and even Kyungsoo, had flinched at the motion. He rolled his eyes, “Whatever happened to our organization going paperless? We have all of these computers and tablets for a reason, right?”

Kyungsoo shrugged, “The Captain has his reasons for everything.”

Minseok mindlessly nodded as he looked down at the documents Junmyeon had handed to him just moments prior. He pinched open the clasp and pulled the papers from the inside of the envelope. The cover page alone made Minseok feel like he was going to be sick. The contents had nothing to do with business of any kind—and he wasn’t entirely sure what sort of game the Captain was trying to play, but he knew that it was a dangerous one. Anger, frustration, and a hint of worry simmered deep in Minseok’s mind the longer he stared at the report.

ASSOCIATED CITIZENS OF ELYXION

ACE

KIM JONGDAE: SIMULATION SUMMARY AND FINDINGS

He wanted to rip the papers to shreds the moment his eyes landed on the document title and realized that the Captain had seen the recording of Jongdae’s simulation. He could only imagine what  _ else  _ the Captain had seen after Jongdae was pulled from the simulation. He cursed himself for not warning Jongdae sooner about avoiding the rooms. 

Minseok bit down on his finger to keep a long string of profanities from tumbling out. 

“What is it, Seok?”

He tore his eyes away from the words to see Sehun propping himself up against the backboard of his bed, worry and curiosity lingering in those tired eyes. Minseok noticed the dried sweat that glistened on Sehun’s dewy skin, and he could only hope that it was a sure sign that the fever was close to breaking.

He could feel the floodgates of his mind opening at the innocent look, the confession sitting on the tip of his tongue. 

“Jongdae...” his name felt both sweet and sour against the back of his tongue, “He braved the simulation rooms.”

The room had gone completely silent, the eyes of his team searching Minseok for further answers.

“How is that even possible?” Junmyeon wondered, “He didn’t even have any sort of clearance done to do so.”

Kyungsoo nodded, “And even if he did, that the means the room deemed his worthy to go in, which is odd because his power is unstable.”

“Unstable,” Minseok mimicked, “But in control.”

Sehun pushed the blankets away from his body as he sat up further. Minseok couldn’t ignore the ache that twisted in his heart when he realized that Sehun couldn’t even bring himself to sit up straight, as they had been conditioned to do, “I don’t think he is, Seok. When Jongdae fought Baekhyun...I don’t know, but it seemed like his power had more control over him than he had over himself. Yixing even admitted that Jongdae is the only person on their team that has always been limited to such an extent. He just becomes the  shell of the man that he is supposed to be whenever he exerts too much power. In what way does that mean he’s in control?”

“He’s not.”

All four of them were startled as they turned to see Yixing standing in the doorway.

“I apologize,” he pardoned, “I didn’t mean to intrude or overhear your conversation, but—”

“It’s alright, Yixing,” Minseok shoved the papers back inside the envelope, pressing them against his chest, before gesturing for Yixing to come in.

Sehun’s eyes went wide with surprise, but not too long after he was offering Yixing a place to sit at one of the nearby armchairs that sat at the foot of the bed. Yixing thanked the youngest and took a seat, the rest of the ACE team joining in his stead. Even Sehun had been able to muster up enough strength to pull himself out of bed and join them, sitting as close to Minseok as he possibly could get.

“It is as I said, Jongdae is not in control of his power,” Yixing prefaced, “He’s always been the most unstable out of all the Rogue members, no matter how many hours of training he put in, which was a lot more than any of us. And yet, he is the strongest out of all of us, and I know deep down that he could do both wondrous and horrific things with that power. My fear is that the more he tries to flex and explore that power, the more he is going to lose himself.”

“Lose himself?” Kyungsoo pressed.

Yixing nodded, “I know the ACE organization is primarily built on the foundation of water and earth elementals, which means that there is an abundance of research done in this field. Therefore, someone like Kim Jongdae may come across as an anomaly of sorts, all for the fact that ACE does not have many lightning elementals. They are a rare breed for a reason, and it has nothing to do with the wielder themselves, but because of how unrelenting and raw the power can be. To be able to wield lightning is just as dangerous as being able to wield fire. It’s like holding a piece of the foundation for life in your hands, and that’s what really sets these two elements apart from all of the others. So, in a way, the lightning itself is like a secondary life line that lingers deep inside its host. But, it’s dangerous. Have any of you ever met a lightning elemental who lived passed the age of, say, thirty five or forty?”

An air of contemplation started to settled around them, and it was Kyungsoo who had come to the conclusion before everyone else.

“The lightning—it—”

Yixing nodded in encouragement.

“It kills the host.” It wasn’t a question, but Kyungsoo’s uncertainty of his answer--almost as if he couldn’t believe it--made it seem like one.

“Lightning feeds off of the energy of its environment,” Yixing stated, “and eventually, it adapts and is no longer able to live on its surrounding conditions alone, especially if the host moves from place to place quite often. It needs a stable and consistent fuel source, and for people like lightning elementals, who are generally stolen away from their homes and used to fight in these petty wars and civil uprisings across the galaxy, the lightning gets suffocated. Thus, it tries to find solace in its host instead.”

Minseok could taste the bile rising in the back of his throat, “It’s a parasite.”

“A natural born parasite,” Sehun offered, “A curse disguised as a blessing.”

“If the host is a powerful elemental, then there is a higher risk of them dying at a younger age than say a  _ divine _ —an elemental whose lightning is white,” Yixing explained.

Junmyeon had gone pale at the onslaught of startling information; perhaps Minseok wasn’t the only person who felt sick to his stomach, “Is there anything we can do? To protect him?”

Minseok almost couldn’t believe that Junmyeon was even offering such a question aloud. Junmyeon had always been the more thoughtful between the two of them, but he generally kept his suggestions and thoughts behind a vaulted door, one that no person would ever be able to bring to see the light of day, at least until he knew that it was safe to process those feelings aloud. 

A grave look fell over Yixing’s face, “I’m afraid not. Even if there were a way, I don’t know how we could go about helping. Jongdae needs to be able to release that power that lingers deep inside him, or else it will tear him apart.”

“Baekhyun,” Minseok blurted out, “He mentioned that Jongdae was destined for something much greater, that he was going to be one of the most powerful lightning elementals to ever live…”

“And  _ you  _ are going to trust Baekhyun’s word now?” Yixing’s tone was accusing.

A wave of confusion passed over everyone in the room that had been oblivious to the discovery of Baekhyun’s identity. 

“It doesn’t matter who Baekhyun is now,” Minseok admitted, “It doesn’t change the fact that he cares for Jongdae, I just don’t see why he would lie.”

“And so you trust him?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then why are you  _ defending _ him?”

Minseok groaned, “Look, I know that all of this is hard for you. Finding out the truth, realizing that you were being played in a game that is much bigger than any of us, one that is far beyond our control. Okay, but this isn’t about Baekhyun, or what he’s done, or whatever he was planning to do. It’s about Jongdae now. The Captain has something in the works, I can feel it in my soul, and I will do everything in my power to make sure that the Captain will never be able to get his hands on him. And maybe if you would pull your head out of your ass for just one moment you’d realize that he’s a lot more important than Baekhyun’s identity crisis.”

“Yeah?” Something in Yixing was shifting, and Minseok would be ready for him if he decided to pounce for any reason, “And what if all of those years ago you found out that Luhan had been hired to kill you? To gain your trust, and make you love him as if he were one of your own, and then turn a blind eye to all that you’ve built, just to get rid of you.”

“How  _ dare _ you—” 

“How dare I  _ what _ ?” Yixing crossed his arms over his chest.

Minseok was seething, “Don’t you ever drag Luhan into this, he has nothing to do with any of this.”

“Then don’t you dare tell me that this is not about Baekhyun,” Yixing raised his voice, “Baekhyun is the whole reason we are in this  _ fucking _ mess to begin with, and  _ you _ are doing nothing to help the situation.”

Minseok was more than aware of the looks that they were receiving from the other ACE members, but he turned to Yixing instead, “I promised to protect Jongdae with everything that I am. I’ll do whatever it takes, and Baekhyun  _ will _ own up for what he did...for deceiving each of you the way that he did, and I’ll make sure that you are given a grand opportunity to make him pay for his actions, if that is what you want. But for now, we need to come up with a protection plan.”

Minseok held up the envelope that he had been cradling in his arms, slapping it down on the table, hard enough for a sharp noise to ricochet off of the walls, “In this folder, there is the complete analysis of Jongdae’s first simulation trial, and I can guarantee to each of you that the Captain has a copy of this file, if not the original. He will do whatever he can to exploit Jongdae’s power, and whatever lingers in his subconscious. He will do to Jongdae, exactly what he is doing to Baekhyun. He’ll hang his loved ones over his head, and it’ll be enough to ensure that Jongdae does his bidding until the day he dies. There is no escaping. You think that even your inner most desires and worries safe? Think again. Once ACE gains even the smallest nugget of information on you...you’re like a heavy boulder, sinking to the floor of a bottomless abyss.”

“The Captain will stop at nothing to get what he wants,” Kyungsoo interjected, “And I’m not entirely sure what is going on here, but if Jongdae  _ is _ destined for that kind of power, and that power was revealed in any shape or form during his simulation...”  

Kyungsoo’s words began to trail, but it had surprised Minseok to hear Sehun speak up, “The Captain will find some way to weaponize him, Yixing. If there’s any chance of saving Jongdae while we are still ahead— _ if _ we are ahead at all—we need to do it, and soon.”

“What exactly are you saying?” Yixing asked.

Minseok looked to face his other members, and he knew, based on the expressions that were written there, they were all thinking the same thing.

“The  _ three  _ of you need to leave,” Minseok concluded, “You, Jongdae, Jongin. All of you need to leave this place as soon as possible.”

“Wait—”

“This is how it all starts,” Junmyeon interrupted, “The Captain starts with one member of your team, and then it spreads to another, and then another, and then eventually, you all fall into his hands without even realizing that you’ve been lured into a cage the entire time. From what I can glean, it seems that it’s already too late for Baekhyun—which both of you are entitled to explain to the rest of us later, now that we’ve been dragged into the conversation—and so he will have to remain here, but it’s not too late to get the rest of you out.”

“You haven’t been here too long,” Sehun claimed, “Jongdae may have been with us longer than the rest of you, but it’s not enough time for the Captain to fully sink in his hooks.”

“If anything, it might just work out that when Jongdae discovers the truth about Baekhyun, he’ll want to leave regardless,” Minseok put forward.

Yixing felt overwhelmed by the suggestion, and he knew that it would have been no different than spending those weeks running away from Alpha’s henchmen. Yet, this time, the threat was a lot stronger. 

“What about all of you?” Yixing suggested.

A small, sad smile spread across Kyungsoo’s face at the leader’s selfless proposition, and he almost felt hopeful that it was even a possibility, “We’ve been here for far too long. The Captain has too much information on each of us for any of us to even consider an escape from this place. Even then, I couldn’t put Minseok’s life on the line like that.”

“Minseok’s?” Yixing turned to look at the knowing faces of the ACE members, who were nodding in agreeance.

“Minseok is our leader,” Sehun’s voice was soft. “If we were to leave, he would have to stay, regardless of what we all might want. We all play a vital role here in the organization, and if our whole team managed to escape, Minseok would pay the price.”

“But...why wouldn’t Minseok just escape with the rest of you?”

“It’s not that simple, nothing is ever simple here,” Sehun ran a hand through his limp hair, “The Captain would go to the ends of the universe to get Minseok back, even if it was to punish him, because he’s the Captain’s right hand. Minseok is one of the leaders here that helps to keep the organization afloat, and without him, a huge gap form in the Captain’s plan for what is essentially galactic dominance. I’m sure you understand, considering that is what Alpha was after, as well.”

Minseok cleared his throat, interjecting before Sehun could give away anymore information, “I want nothing but the best for my team, and to be frank, this is not the life I ever imagined for any of us. After Luhan passed, I wanted nothing more than to leave this hell hole, and to leave behind all of the anger and pain that I felt, but as Sehun mentioned, it’s never that simple. It’s a lot easier for them to find their way out of here than it is for me. I am a product of this organization, born and raised by a long line of ACE military operatives, my fate was sealed before I was even conceived. For  _ them _ ...it is their choice. If they want to stay, I know there’s nothing that I can do to stop them from staying.”

Junmyeon crossed his legs, “If we leave, Minseok would die.”

Minseok was stunned by Junmyeon’s bluntness. His head snapped in Junmyeon’s direction as the words fell from his mouth.

“It would be the worst betrayal to ever happen since an incident that occurred centuries ago,” Junmyeon stated, “and for Minseok to have seemingly lost control of an  _ entire _ team that is crucial to the Captain’s agenda, it would be a merciless death. To know that I’d be leaving him behind to suffer that cruel fate, I couldn’t do it. He’s my brother.”

“And if Rogue leaves?” Yixing inquires. 

The room went silent, an unspoken acknowledgement of the truth passing through each of them.

“What happens if we leave, Minseok?” Yixing’s repeated.

Minseok sighed in defeat, “There would be dire consequences. I am in charge of all of you now. You are technically part of my team. Whatever the consequences might be, I can’t be sure. I just know that the aftermath will probably be a gruesome task. Not for me, but for my own members.”

Minseok gestured to the men that sat around him, a solid forcefield that would do whatever it could to protect their leader. Not just that, a firm front that could convey to anyone that Minseok’s team was more than just brains and bronze, that they were their own people. Not ACE, not the Captain’s pawns in a much larger game, but that they were each others. It had taken Yixing this long to recognize it, but it was a truth that he couldn’t unsee.

Before any of them had a chance to respond, a wave of incessant ringing and beeping roared throughout the room in all directions. Minseok’s hand dove into his pocket to fish out his communicator; Kyungsoo and Junmyeon followed in doing so shortly after. Sehun had to stand and walk across the room to fetch his.

“What—what is going on?” Yixing’s eyebrows furrowed as she studied the ACE members, who were busying themselves with reading in unison whatever had been sent to them. 

Yixing observed as Minseok’s eyes tore away from the device and to where Sehun was now shuffling through his drawers, picking up a dark pair of pants and a black tee, “Sehun, are you sure you’re going to be able to do this in your condition?”

“Captain’s orders,” It was the only response that Sehun had provided. 

Yixing grew frustrated, “Is someone going to tell me what exactly is going on?” 

Kyungsoo clipped the device, the screen still glowing, to his waistband, standing from the chair to stretch, “All of us are required to meet downstairs in the simulation training area.”

“The what?”

“Don’t worry about the details for now,” Minseok ordered, gathering the packet in his hands once more, “Let’s just go. The simulations are an official mission that has been assigned to all of us, so we need to get going.  _ Now _ .”

“Junmyeon, please let the others know to bring Baekhyun, Jongdae, and Jongin,” Kyungsoo instructed.

Yixing flinched at the mentioning of Baekhyun’s name in the same sentence as Jongdae and Jongin.

Minseok’s second-in-command made a noise of acknowledgment before the two of them dissipated from the room. 

“Go with them.”

Yixing followed the sound of Minseok’s voice to where Minseok was shoving his communicator back into his pocket, and when Yixing didn’t make a move to follow, Minseok’s stare weighed heavily on him.

“Did I stutter?” Minseok asked, raising his voice. “Go with them. I’m going to stay behind and make sure that Sehun gets there safely.”

Yixing settled for nodding before chasing after the other two ACE members, who were well down the hallway by the time he had caught sight of them.

When he had finally caught up with them, Yixing heard Kyungsoo ask, “What do you think is going on?” 

Junmyeon looked to Yixing, who was clearly winded, and let out an anxious sigh, “I’m not sure, but whatever it is, it must be important if it requires all of us to enter a simulation.”

“Why are these rooms such a big deal?” Yixing inquired. 

The three of them stepped into an elevator, and the cool air felt heavenly against Yixing’s skin as the doors sealed shut. 

Junmyeon pressed his back up against the wall, “Only a select few are able to enter these rooms. It’s a very complex process of selection. First, you have to go through an organization-wide security clearance, which is administered by the Captain—essentially, the Captain gets to decide whether or not a person is worthy enough to enter. After all of that is said and done, the room itself decides if a person is in enough control of their elemental power to enter. And please don’t try to ask me how it works, because I’m not entirely sure myself.”

The elevator door slid open to reveal Jongin standing around with Chanyeol and Jongdae; Baekhyun was nowhere to be seen, yet. 

“ _ Jun _ ,” Chanyeol gasped, “ _ Soo _ , what’s—”

Kyungsoo answered before Chanyeol could finish his thought, knowing what the older member was going to asked, “We don’t know either.” 

“Where is Minseok?” Yixing heard Jongdae ask.

Junmyeon pulled his jacket down just a little past his shoulders and looked to Jongdae, “He and Sehun should be down any minute now. Where is Baekhyun?”

Jongdae pointed casually behind him, “He’s waiting around the corner.”

They waited several more minutes until Minseok and Sehun appeared from the elevator. Yet, Yixing had noticed a complete change in Minseok’s demeanor. Everything about him seemed…. _ darker _ . And when he stepped from the elevator, Yixing trembled in Minseok’s presence. 

_ This _ was ACE’s leader, the  _ Ice Prince _ , ravager of worlds, come to lead his men into the great unknown. 


	31. CHAPTER 31: TEAM EX'ACT

They had been sitting in a remote conference room that sat one end of the long corridor that had been lined with simulation rooms, awaiting further instruction. Nearly half an hour passed before Minseok started to get antsy, which forced him to stand and begin pacing in front of the large projector screen. The EX’ACT team had been sitting in silence the entire time, give or take Junmyeon’s several groans and sighs of impatience, which did nothing to absolve Minseok’s unforeseen pissy mood.

Yixing’s eyes rocked back and forth, swaying with the motion of Minseok’s pacing. It was the first time in a couple of weeks that Yixing had seen Minseok settle back into his label as ACE’s leader, and it surprised him as to how startled he had been because of the transformation. He had spent the last five to six years seeing nothing more a mere facade that Minseok had meticulously carved and crafted with his own hands. Yixing couldn’t recall a single moment when he wasn’t himself around anyone, including Alpha. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that he hadn’t been named an official leader—it was just a title that Rogue had bestowed upon him when their team went through a short-term identity crisis. Naturally, the Rogue members prescribed the role to him because he had been the oldest and the most level headed of the four.

“Minseok, if you keep pacing any longer, you’re going to make me dizzy,” Chanyeol called out, jabbing his fist onto the conference table. 

The ACE leader came to a swift halt in front of his vacant chair. Those deadly sphinx eyes narrowing and pinning Chanyeol to where he sat. Yixing was completely convinced that Chanyeol might have stopped breathing. No one made a sound, or made any efforts to move, as a mist-like cloud started to form around Minseok’s wrist. When he raised his hand for all to see, the mist disappearing without a trace, a sharp, icy transparent throwing knife appeared in between his fingers. The tension in the room was so thick that the heat of it caused the hair hanging in Yixing’s eyes to stick to his forehead. He was grateful for the slight breeze that passed over him due to the cool air that was being emitted off of Minseok.

Minseok shoved the solid piece of ice through the thick table, a resounding thud bouncing off of the walls around them. Those lethally seductive eyes drinking in the fear dripping from Chanyeol’s face, “What were you saying, Chanyeol?” 

Chanyeol gulped down the yelp that had risen in his throat, “For—forget I said anything.”

Kyungsoo chuckled, taking delight in the crippling fear that sent Chanyeol into a shivering, trembling mess.

Minseok let the thick shard of ice that had impaled the table directly in between Baekhyun and Chanyeol melt into nothing more than a puddle at their feet. Even Baekhyun had the audacity to smirk, and it took every ounce of self-control that Yixing could muster to keep from jumping across the wide table and pin Baekhyun to the wall with that now foreign dagger. He took a deep breath and allowed the well of frustration to leave his body with each dragging exhale. 

The sudden clicking of the door swinging open and shutting dragged Yixing from his anger-doused thoughts. He recognized the guard that had been standing outside of the Captain’s quarters from when he and Minseok met with him earlier in the day. He settled himself at the opposing end of the table, closest to the door. The EX’ACT members couldn’t help but notice the silver platter he had been holding onto for dear life before setting it directly in between the space that separate Sehun and Junmyeon. 

The guard stood stick straight as he folded his hands in front of his abdomen as his eyes darted between Minseok and the covered platter. A new sort of tension skirted around them as Minseok revealed his arsenal of ice-formed weapons that he had camouflaged against his chest; he had been stroking the blade of a makeshift clip-point knife with the pads of his fingers, those cat-like eyes never once leaving its prey.

The Captain’s guard dipped his head ever so slightly in Minseok’s direction, who did not reciprocate the gesture, “Colonel.”

Minseok let the young man stand in that position for as long as it took for his amusement to dissipate, which didn’t take too long all things considered. He exhaled loudly, capturing more than one EX’ACT member’s attention, “ _ Rise _ .”

And so he did, nodding in Minseok’s direction once more, “I have brought the mission details straight from the computer of the Captain. He asks that you review these details carefully and proceed with the the assignment as soon as you all have fully analyzed and understood what is expected from each of you.”

Minseok sucked on his teeth, a clicking noise slipping past his lips, waving him off like the servant he is, “Leave us.” 

He knew the guard had no control over him here, this was Minseok’s jurisdiction, and there was no way in hell he was going to be humiliated by some guard in front of his own men. Especially since he was still trying to gain the respect of the Rogue members, even if it was a faux sense of approval. It didn’t matter what sort of dirty looks the Captain’s guards gave him whenever he found himself at the Captain’s doorstep. He knew what sort of rumors people had tried to spread about him and what his position was supposed to be with the Captain over the years. A few months after being hired as the Captain’s official executioner, a handful of departments tried to claim, and even attempted to confirm, that Minseok was the Captain’s personal whore. After a while, Minseok couldn’t even find the energy to roll his eyes for every time the whispers made their way back into his office. And when he had learned that one of the Captain’s  _ former  _ guards had been the source of said hearsay, the Captain had give Minseok the liberty of  _ handling _ the situation himself.

Minseok eyed Sehun, who was closest the the tray that contained the card. Sehun quickly interpreted Minseok’s sharp stare, grabbing the edge of the tray and launching it across the sleek surface of the table, which snagged for a moment on the spot where Minseok had pierced the solid surface. He released the buckle that had been holding down the cover to ensure the card’s safe transport, and pulled the card from the narrow slit that had been designed to hold it in place. He discarded the tray over his shoulder, letting it land with a echoing clang that rang a near-deafening sound in everyone’s ears. 

He settled himself at the podium that stood in the front of the room, installing the operation card in the card reader, and in a matter of seconds, the ACE emblem was forming on the screen. When it disappeared, several documents were listed for them to cover, but the ones that stood out to him in particular were the ones labelled  _ operation details  _ and  _ revised simulation rules _ .

As much as he was tempted to uncover what sort of new rules and regulations had been put into place for the simulation rooms, Minseok knew he had to do things in order. So, he settled for opening the mission statement details first.

The document popped up on the screen, and as per usual an automated voice over discussed the task that was written there.

ASSOCIATED CULTURES OF ELYXION

ACE

_ OPERATION: PATHCODE _

ASSIGNED TEAM: EX’ACT

TEAM STATUS: Active

MESSAGE TYPE: Secure External Hard Drive Card

PRIORITY: 8

AGENTS:  **Kim Minseok** , Park Chanyeol, Zhang Yixing, Do Kyungsoo, Kim Jongin, Kim Junmyeon, Oh Sehun, Kim Jongdae, Byun Baekhyun

ORDERS

  * ACE Headquarters



MISSION DETAILS

  * The Captain has summoned Team EX’ACT to fulfill the following mandate.
  * “TEAM EX’ACT has been selected to participate in an extensive and intensive training program led by its leader, Colonel Kim Minseok. This training process will cover the a time span of up to as long as one month. Each of the nine members will partake in both **individual and team simulated training sessions** to prepare for a long-term, upcoming mission.”
  * Training sessions will commence every day, one a day, for the next 30 days. 
  * Sessions will alternate day-to-day between individual and team exercises. 
  * The following individual will have to complete two simulations each day. One group and one individual: **Kim Minseok**
  * Please refer to the revised simulation rules located in this file for changes in simulation room etiquette and what operatives can expect to change over the course of the month.



 

Minseok stared at the mission details for a long time, and he could tell that the remaining EX’ACT members were attempting to process the task at hand just as much as he was.

_ Long-term mission _ ?

_ Simulations _ .

Two very crucial things that Minseok was presently attempting to avoid for Jongdae’s sake. He knew deep down that the more Jongdae went into those simulations, the more information that the Captain would be able to glean from his trials. Minseok’s chest ached just thinking about what the Captain could possibly have in store for them.

“Group simulations?” Sehun’s doubt-filled voice rang throughout the room. 

Group simulations had never even been attempted at the ACE headquarters before. If anything, it was strictly prohibited. Minseok couldn’t help by noticed the way his stomach twisted into knot after knot as Sehun’s words echoed in his mind.

Sehun leaned against the palm of his hand, “Why would the Captain want us to do team simulations? That’s not the purpose of the simulation rooms, and even if that was its purpose, the vast majority of the team has never seen the light of an individual one. How does he expect them to adapt to the conditions of the room in one day, essentially?”

“We’ve been given a month, Sehun,” Junmyeon reiterated.

Sehun rolled his eyes, “I’m aware. What I’m trying to say is that, as someone who  _ has _ gone through a variety of individual simulations, it takes time for a person to adapt to the effects that the rooms produce, especially once you complete a room.”

He looked to Kyungsoo who sat adjacent to him, “Don’t you remember the first time I braved the simulation, and I had the worst case of vertigo for nearly a week? The simulations affect everyone differently, and the primary reason why the rooms are so picky about who enters is because the individual not only needs to be strong elementally, but mentally, as well. You have to be ready to face anything—particularly, your greatest fears.”

Kyungsoo nodded in agreement, “As someone who has been through a handful of simulations, as well, I have to agree with Sehun. Unless there’s something to help with the side effects, I’m not entirely confident that our team will be able to do them day after day. The mental and physical strain will be too great.”

“What sort of long-term mission requires us to train in the simulated environments anyways?” Chanyeol asserted, “We’ve had missions across the vast expanse of this system, it’s nothing we can’t handle.”

Minseok was completely and utterly speechless. He couldn’t find any words to console the concerns that lingered in each of the faces of the men that sat before him. If he was being honest with himself, he was blindsided just as much as they had been. If he could offer any explanation as to what their assignment was going to be—he would, but he couldn’t. He could admit to himself with the most honorable ease that he didn’t know a single thing, but staring back at those confused and prying eyes made his realize that he couldn’t bring himself to say the words out loud. What kind of leader did that make him? And the fact that the assignment was going to be a long-term one meant that there would not only be added stress on himself, but on Sehun and Chanyeol, as well. He knew that they would need to kick into maximum overdrive in order to finish the prototype for the new spacecraft, but Minseok knew better than anyone that it would be damn near impossible for them to finish in a timely manner. One glance in Jongdae’s direction told Minseok that nine people were not going to fit into the 326. Even with Jongdae aboard, it had been hard to manage in the small space. They needed something bigger. Faster. And Chanyeol would supply that. Minseok had absolutely no doubts about it. 

What he  _ did _ doubt was the Captain’s confidence that Minseok would be able to lead these men through these training exercises. It was one thing to train a platoon of soldiers in hand-to-hand combat, but it was a completely different thing to find an efficient way of guiding nine men through the simulations that would benefit every single one of them. Someone would always be at a disadvantage. It would all come down to the environment prescribed to them, and Minseok came to the realization that he wouldn’t be able to prepare himself for the simulations that were to come either. The Captain expected him to lead them, and lead them he will, but the foundation of that leadership felt like it could collapse under his feet at any moment. The least the Captain could have done was to at least brief him on this beforehand. He was going into this just as blind as the rest of them. 

He wondered if they would all see the same thing. Or would they all fall away into their respective mental landscapes, facing each of their deepest fears, just as if they were in an individual simulation? It made Minseok nervous to even consider the possibility that the others might be able to discover his own deep, dark secrets, and he could tell by the looks on his men’s faces that they were contemplating that same, daunting possibility. Who knew what sort of things would be exposed because of it. 

“Minseok.”

He looked across the room to where Junmyeon was patiently waiting for his leader to say something...anything. 

Minseok cleared his throat and flashed each of them a weak smile, “I’m going to make copies of this card and I would like each of you to review the updated rules and regulations for the simulation rooms. If you have any questions, please...don’t hesitate to ask.”

Everyone began to move and shuffle about the room, some headed for the door, some crowded around each other in pairs, most likely discussing the sudden news. 

Minseok put his head down on the cool wooden surface for just a moment. He was burning up, and not even a single ounce of the ice that made up his veins was doing anything to help; only brief spurts of subfreezing relief were granted to him thanks to the solid surface of the podium. A swarm of anxious and unsettling thoughts attempted to knock him off of his feet, but he could not allow that to happen with other members still present. When he finally deemed it safe for him to lift his head, he found Jongdae standing slightly adjacent him. 

He flinched at the younger’s presence, considering that the last time they tried to have a decent conversation, it hadn’t ended at all the way Minseok would have liked. 

“I’m—I’m sorry,” Jongdae stuttered, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Minseok took several hesitant, reluctant steps away. Regardless of the pull he felt, he could sense Baekhyun’s eyes sizing him up, in spite of the information that Minseok possessed. It was no weapon that Minseok could bring himself to wield in order to protect Jongdae, no matter how much he wanted to. 

It was, however, a solid weight wrapped around Baekhyun’s ankles, who struggled and fought against the resistance that laid deep in his heart. It was the whole truth that Baekhyun had attempted to toss away, but it had become a cage that contained him—a constant reminder of the inevitable. There would never be an opportune time for Baekhyun to tell him, but that didn’t stop him from withholding that fragile candor, because there was always the chance that by the grace of some god, an opportunity would present itself to him when the moment was absolutely right. 

Minseok draped his arm across his chest to wrap a hand around his non-dominant arm, attempting to rub away any of the remaining shyness that lingered in the air around them. Suddenly the room felt too quiet, everyone who remained seemed hyper aware of the tension that charged the open space between them. 

He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but he couldn’t find any words to fill the silence. A small, hopeful look began to form in Jongdae’s features; a look that Minseok would do anything to keep there. But he knew all too well that it couldn’t be—shouldn’t be—because of him. He wanted nothing more than to gently fold Jongdae in his arms, to prevent even the most trivial opposing forces from harming him, but he knew better. Jongdae was the strongest person that Minseok had known ever since Luhan, and a storm was headed straight for him, for all of them. One that even Jongdae’s raw power couldn’t possibly conquer. He let whatever unspoken words were left hanging between them fall away, and corrected the large crack in his leadership persona.

“If you’ve come to see if I’ve made up my mind, then you’re wrong,” Minseok’s voice was shaky, and whether Jongdae could sense the uncertainty in his demeanor, he couldn’t tell. 

A muscled flickered in Jongdae’s cheek as his eyes roamed Minseok’s face, “It’s not that. I just—”

“Then what are you doing here?”

Jongdae was paralyzed by the question. He dwelled on it until he could feel the room begin to spin, and yet he came up empty handed. He couldn’t provide an explanation for why he had suddenly approached Minseok, other than the fact that his feet had carried him along an uncharted course straight for him. As if a strong wind had come out of nowhere, and pushed him straight for his own icy doom, a fate Jongdae would have calmly and willingly accepted. 

Minseok dared take a couple of steps closer, just enough to exclude prying ears from hearing what he was about to say.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and tried so hard to keep eye contact with the younger, but doing so made him want to cave into Jongdae. And he desperately wanted to, but he couldn’t—wouldn't. Not until he knew that Jongdae was safe from any dangers that would most likely come his way. He wanted nothing more than to swallow the lies that left a bitter taste on his tongue, “Leave, Jongdae. Baekhyun is waiting, and I am not in the mood to have him come over here and try to pick a fight with me…”

“Min—”

Minseok shook his head, “Whatever you’re about to say, swallow it. Bury it deep in that big, golden heart of yours...at least for now, do you understand? This is neither the place nor time for any kind of exchange to happen between you and I. And when the time is right, I will come to you, and we’ll talk.”

Minseok knew deep down in his heart that it was a promise, one that he would intend to keep. One day. But for today...today he would let Jongdae walk into Baekhyun’s arms, and continued to use those feelings that he certainly felt to add brick after brick of the wall he intended to build in between them.


	32. CHAPTER 32: BAEKHYUN & JONGDAE

Baekhyun couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes away from Jongdae and Minseok for even a single moment. Jongdae had launched himself from the conference room table when Minseok crouched over the podium. It hadn’t taken him long to determine that Minseok was overly stressed and overwhelmed, but not even that could change the brittle anxiety that continued to collect deep within himself ever since it was revealed that Minseok and Yixing knew exactly who he was— _ what _ he was.

It was shocking enough that neither Jongdae nor Jongin were questioning why Yixing couldn’t even bring himself to look in his general direction. If the subtle glares and daggers shooting from his eyes weren’t enough of a dead give away as to how Yixing felt about him, then his unusual silence would have been. He knew that he was dead in Yixing’s eyes, and he couldn’t blame him. He had completely betrayed his trust, one of the very few people Baekhyun had come to trust most in the world. Yixing was one of the most forgiving people he had ever met. He could have committed the most heinous act, all for the sake of a good laugh, and Yixing would have found it somewhere in his heart to forgive him. This time was different. This time it was real, and he knew that if Yixing wasn’t going to forgive him now...he never would. He only wished that Yixing could understand why he made the choices that he did. There was nothing he wished for more than to go back to the past and find a way to meet the three of them outside of all the ACE bullshit. Only then could he call them his family, because the minute the truth comes out, he knew he’d lose them for good. 

Yixing was leaning up against the wall directly across the room, his judgemental gaze assessing every move that Baekhyun made. He knew exactly what Yixing was thinking, even an idiot could figure it out. 

He needed to tell Jongdae. 

They have had over half a decade of horrifically beautiful memories with each other. Not all of them had been positive ones, considering that they were constantly at each other’s throats ever since Baekhyun had found a way into their circle. Yet, in the face of his looming fate, he found himself reliving and cherishing every second of those petty fights. 

His mind wandered to Europa. His last stand as a Rogue. The day that they were supposed to die, but didn’t. The Captain had been particularly clear in his instruction. The Captain was to send a hoard of ACE troops and agents in a last minute effort to draw out Alpha, seeing as Europa was his next target of conquest. It had already been two years since he had been given his assignment and he could sense that the Captain’s patience was beginning to waver, but only slightly. Baekhyun knew that he could wager more time on the mission, but he had to do what he had been assigned to do—before he grew too attached. 

If only his past self could see him now. 

They had split into two teams once Rogue had been assigned the mission by Alpha to scope out the terrain, and report back with ACE’s movements. Ones that he knew all too well. Yixing and Jongin volunteered to do the  _ actual _ reconnaissance work by infiltrating and scavenging the various bases ACE had set up in the heart of Europa’s capital. And in order for them to do that, Baekhyun and Jongdae had been left with the task that no stealth operative ever volunteered for. It had been their job to be the distraction that would pull away the ACE agents from their space, only long enough for Yixing and Jongin to get in and out with the information they needed. 

Europa’s capital was small and it had been swallowed up by the sea of ACE operatives that the Captain had installed there. There were three ACE outposts within a seven mile radius, and Baekhyun knew that without Jongin’s help, driving the operatives out and away from their posts would be difficult if he hadn’t been an undercover ACE himself. 

Without Alpha’s knowing, Baekhyun had found a way to link his personal Rogue tracker to the tracking system of the ACE higher ups who had been stationed on Europa for the mission. They would know Baekhyun’s every move.

What made Baekhyun nervous was the bomb. The very one that he had installed himself when he had gone off alone in the middle of the night—the night before the mission—while the remainder of the Rogue members had been asleep. Several of his commanding officers had met him at the bomb site to discuss the plan for the following day, and their insistence for answers did nothing to calm his nerves. He had described Rogue’s plan of action, to ensure that each of the officers and their teams would all be far enough away from their outpost stations to give Yixing and Jongin the opportunity to raid the unit, and get as close to the bomb site as possible. It was supposed to be an ambush. For ACE to overwhelm Rogue through strength and numbers, so much so that even Jongin wouldn’t be able to teleport each of them out without risking the safety of the other members. 

And it had worked. 

All of it. 

The ambush had been a success, and Baekhyun had felt relieved that he didn’t need to detonate the bomb. Until it had gone off. 

Rogue had been climbing dozens and dozens of flights of stairs to get the rooftop of one of the taller buildings in Europa’s business district in order to load themselves onto the spacecraft that Alpha had sent for them. Yixing and Jongin had gotten a head start during all of the fighting, and had made it to the roof top before either him or Jongdae could have. The bomb had gone off as they cleared a little over half of the flights of stairs that led them up through the building.

Next thing he knew, he was dangling from Jongdae’s grip as he held onto that bloodied metal rod for dear life. It was in that moment that Baekhyun realized that the mission had been a complete and utter failure. To any outsider, it would have seemed like a win for ACE, but it hadn’t. 

The fire beneath his feet intensified with each passing second and neither of them were going to last much longer if he had continued to weigh Jongdae down. It was everything that was supposed to happen, and would have been the outcome that Baekhyun would have wanted himself. If Jongdae hadn’t outsmarted him for the millionth time, as he usually did, both of them would have died that day. It would have satisfied not only the Captain—who saw, and still sees, Jongdae as Rogue’s most threatening member—but it would have given Baekhyun the peace of mind he needed to know that Jongdae would have died without knowing that it had all been because of him. He knew it was selfish, but he couldn’t bear to think of the pain that Jongdae would have felt if he had discovered that it had all been because of him. That the whole mission had been a set up to bring about their deaths. 

It was still a valid fear that Baekhyun faced each and every day. Especially now that both Yixing and Minseok had uncovered the truth themselves, demanding that he break the news to Jongdae.

It wasn’t until Jongdae’s warm hands cupped his face, who used his thumbs to wipe away his tears, that Baekhyun realized that he had been crying. 

The room had been empty, save for himself and Jongdae. He couldn’t help but wonder how long Jongdae had been standing there watching him relive the past in that hypnotic daze.

A weak, yet reassuring smile spread across Jongdae’s face. 

“I know better than to ask,” Jongade prefaced, his voice a sweet whisper, “and I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it every time, but...just know that I’m here for you whenever you need me.”

And the flood gates had opened. He could feel Jongdae’s arms circling around his neck and shoulders as the tears flooded. Based on instinct alone, Baekhyun’s arms wrapped around Jongdae’s abdomen, pulling him as close as he possibly could. He was vaguely aware of the fact that the mid section of Jongdae’s borrowed shirt was completely covered in tears, so he pushed himself away to dry his damp face. 

When he looked up to Jongdae once more, a wave of guilt devoured him. This was the man he loved more than anything in this god damned universe, and he knew better than anyone how fragile that sweet heart of his was. It seemed only poetic that he would be the one to break it now.

They were alone, and even though it wasn’t much, Baekhyun had been able to muster just enough courage to set his pride aside and ready himself for the pain that was about to swarm his soul. 

“Jongdae…” His voice was raspy, and a lot shakier than he would have initially anticipated. But if he was going to tell him, now was his only chance, “I have something important that I need to tell you.”

Jongdae’s brows furrowed with keen interest, and Baekhyun’s heart broke just watching him settle in the seat beside him. 

Baekhyun loosed a shaky sigh, a series of several rogue tears falling from the corners of his eyes, “I love you. Jongdae, I  _ love _ you.”

A dazzling smile that had reached Jongdae’s eyes consumed his features; Baekhyun wrapped his fingers around Jongdae’s, squeezing them with all of his might for one last time. He knew that this would be the end of everything for them. 

“Baek, I—”

“No…” Baekhyun’s voice boomed around them, “Don’t say it, please. Just... _ don’t _ . If—if you say it...it’ll just make what I’m about to say that much more difficult to confess.”

It was because of this that Baekhyun could no longer read Jongdae, who had become unusually stiff.

“Don’t worry, it’s not because of you,” Baekhyun admitted, at which Jongdae’s shoulders slightly relaxed. 

Baekhyun had come face to face with denial as all of the horrendous thoughts that had been enacted by his actions flooded through his body. At first it was as subtle as the still waters of even the most beautiful rivers he had ever seen, but now it felt like he was being mangled by a tsunami. He had known sacrifice amidst a room filled to the brim with people and things that he held near and dear for so long. Priceless memories, and countless horrors, were locked away in the vault of his conscious thoughts; a vault that not even Jongdae had ever been able to unlock, one that he hadn’t even known to exist. Now that room was consumed and tainted with the insurmountable guilt that clouded his judgement. The guilt that he felt could rival the love that he had in his heart. If Baekhyun didn’t say it here,  _ now _ , he was afraid a dam would burst open on its own before he even had a chance to salvage the foundation of the barrier that kept all of his wrong doings from even threatening Jongdae.

“You... _ you _ , Jongdae, are the source of all things good and great in my life. So solid, so clear, that I could almost reach out and hold it in my hands. Completely and utterly unwavering in the presence of forces that are far beyond our reach.”

The smile that had run across Jongdae’s face began to fade, and fast. 

“After all of these years, you are surely the first to make me feel like I wasn’t alone amongst the chaos that ensued around us every single day. There may come a day that will prove that I might never be able to repay you for the kindness that you have shown me,” Baekhyun let out a shaky breath and swallowed back whatever tears he could as they began to well up inside of him once one, “And if our paths diverge one day, then I would consider it the most amazing pleasure to have loved you the way I did. A love that could be the molded to fit the shape of many forms, but still one that encompasses a space much larger than what my heart could ever contain—”

“Baek, what are you doing?” Jongdae’s hand fell limp around Baekhyun’s, he hadn’t noticed that they had run cold, “Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye?”

“Jongdae, please,” Baekhyun pleaded, “Just let me—”

“ _ Stop _ ,” Jongdae insisted, “What the hell is really going on? I know you, Baek, and I know that you would never withhold the truth from me. So, start talking.”

A single tear fell from the corner of Baekhyun’s eye, “You and I have always been back to back. We were the two drastically different sides to the same coin; light and dark; you were the lightning, and I was the thunder that followed shortly after, following you wherever you desired to go. You were my salvation, the only thing in this wretched life that I needed to confirm that, yes, there was still good in this endless expanding universe. You showed me that I am more than a mere tool that could be used and bartered amidst the many mindless cogs to much larger machines.”

The image of Jongdae’s face became blurry from the gradual building and collecting of tears that had continued to build.

“I think about that day all the time. Europa. I turn it over in my mind like it’s a foreign object, examining it until my mind runs numb, hoping that it will yield the answers I’m looking for. I’ve read somewhere that on Earth, eons ago, before the second bang, there was an author—a great one—who posed the question: to be, or not to be. It’s the only line of his writing that had survived the many stories he was rumored to have written. And I got to thinking that he probably meant death, which led me to thinking about my life in the grand scale of this universe. One, insignificant life, roaming and contemplating his place in all of this…”

“ _ Baek _ ,” A series of stray tears fell from Jongdae’s beautiful eyes, his cheeks and eyes reddening at an alarming rate. He practically croaked out the nickname. 

“Shhhh,” Baekhyun cooed, skimming a hand atop Jongdae’s silky hair. He dragged his hand down the side of Jongdae’s face until it settled to cup his cheek, lightly stroking the skin there in reassurance, “And whenever I thought of those things, I would think of you.  _ You _ , who made me feel more secure in the reasons at why my heart would beat.  _ You _ , who refused to let me slip from your grasp. You,  _ Jongdae _ , who saved me more times and in more ways that I care to admit.”

A small, pained chuckled passed through Jongdae’s lips.

“But I guess that was always it. We were always back to back, never looking at one another. We spent more time fending off everything and anything that came our way that I never saw what truly mattered. I was consumed by the fear that fueled the killer in me who would do anything you asked. You were like a genie who hypnotized me and ensnared me in an endless cycle of asking for and receiving more wishes.”

An internal conflict seemed to be ravaging Jongdae’s thoughts, Baekhyun could tell by the way his brow crinkled with worry.

“I fell for your siren’s song,” Baekhyun confessed. His voice couldn’t have been more than a whisper, “Yet, you waited too long to tear out my heart and make it yours. Fuck, you didn’t even need to, because it had always been yours to begin with. And as much as I wish you would have just done it yourself, I knew that I couldn’t ever let you. So, right here, right now, I painstakingly rip out my own black heart to lay at your feet. I’ll leave it to you to decide what you do with it from then on. If you decide to forgive the grave sins that I have commited, you may decide to keep it, but if things go how I predict they will...I would never—could never—blame you for deciding to toss it into the depths of a bottomless sea.”

“ _ Baekhyun— _ ”

“I’m sorry,” Baekhyun raised his voice to overpower Jongdae’s, “I wish...god, how I wish we had more time. Just enough for us to be like this with our feeling out in the open. If I still believed in a higher power, I would beg and plead for us to have that time, for us to have found each other in favorable circumstances. Somewhere far away from all of  _ this _ —ACE, Alpha, Rogue. All of it. Where you could just be Kim Jongdae, and me, Byun Baekhyun—”

“Stop this—”

“—I’ll never be prepared to watch you walk away, Kim Jongdae. If there was a way that I could ensure you wouldn’t then I could hold it as close to my dead heart as I could. I’m nothing more than a simple man with a complicated story, who loves a man more than his own life.”

Jongdae pulled Baekhyun by the collar of his shirt and swallowed him in his arms. Baekhyun was stunned into silence at the sheer force of his grip, but he could no longer bring himself to return the gesture.

It had to be now. The truth had to come out, and if he waited even another second longer, he’d lose the chance forever.

“Jongdae,” His name felt bitter on Baekhyun’s tongue, knowing what was going to follow. It sounded more like a sob than anything else, “I’m—”

A loud smack of metal against metal rang throughout the room as they tore away from each other, both of their heads whirling in the direction of the sharp noise. 

Chanyeol pushed himself away from the doorframe and deeper into the room, “Both of you need to come with me, now.”

“What’s going on?” Jongdae inquired as Chanyeol made his way to turn and exit the room again.

Chanyeol waited for both of them at the foot of the door, “Well, we can’t do group simulations without the whole team now can we?”

Baekhyun damned the universe as Jongdae stood and sprinted after Chanyeol, not looking back even once to see if he was following.

Instead, he split his heart in half and left behind his golden opportunity to rust and decay in the confession that had been stolen from him. 


	33. CHAPTER 33: TEAM EX'ACT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> she's a long one, and i'm sorry in advance ~

Minseok had given everyone a great deal of time for the rest of them team to review the rules for the simulation rooms, considering that a greater majority of them had never experience it before—as Sehun had mentioned. 

When Chanyeol returned with Jongdae and Baekhyun, one of the medical agents had already arrived with the eight filled syringes that would be administered to each of them before the beginning of the group simulation. 

He had learned that the Captain intended to put a leash on them, as if he wasn’t the Captain’s bitch already. The Captain had prescribed each of them personalized sets of injections that would act to hone and block their elemental power during the exercises. It didn’t take Minseok long to realize that they would be on their own, they would no longer their powers, they were merely simple men left with only their brains and bronze. Who knew what the Captain had in store for them now that they would be restrained, their powers completely stripped from their veins. 

Minseok had set himself apart from the others, the medical aid had followed on his command. As EX’ACT’s leader, he’d be the first to receive the injection. If anything bad was going to happen to any of them because of these serums, then he would rather it be him who embraced whatever would be on the other side. 

Minseok looked to where Jongdae and Baekhyun had been huddled together, and it made him sick to even look at the latter acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary. They were smiling those dazzling, obnoxious love-sick smiles at one another; it had felt like someone had poured rubbing alcohol on an open wound. He forced his eyes away and looked to the medical aid, who had a full syringe at the ready. 

“Are you ready, sir?”

Minseok too a deep breath and nodded. The aid had prepped the skin of his forearm, and then pushed the needle into the base of his forearm. The burn of the liquid inside spread quickly throughout the entire map of his body, and before he knew it, he had felt hollow. As if he were just another man, living just another life. 

The room suddenly felt like a sauna now that the ice that lingered beneath his skin had vanished. 

“You might feel slightly dizzy—”

“Minseok?”

Minseok lifted his head at the first hint of Sehun’s voice. 

“Minseok,” Sehun stated firmly, “What—what are you doing?”

He shook his head at the younger and smiled a faint smile. The medical agent placed a hand under Minseok’s arm and lowered him into a chair, “You need to sit down now. The serum is going to start taking its effect soon.” 

A small crowd collected around him, which primarily comprised of Sehun, Yixing, Junmyeon, and Kyungsoo. He noticed that Chanyeol had been merely watching with a small look of concern plastered on his face from his spot on the floor. 

Baekhyun and Jongdae were still lost in their own little world. 

Sehun stepped into Minseok’s line of vision, blocking the sight he didn’t want to see anyway. The younger clasped onto Minseok’s wrist, a lethal look lingered just beyond his eyes. No one else would have been able to notice it except for him. He had known Sehun too well not to be able to notice when he was teetering on the edge of anger and worry. 

Sehun looked to the aid while rolling up the sleeve, “I’m next.”

“Sehun—”

“Don’t say it, Seok,” Sehun didn’t even tear his eyes away from the aid who was preparing Sehun’s specialized injection. 

“I’m the one who is supposed to be going in first,” Minseok stated firmly, “Stop this.”

Sehun bit down on his lip in, irritation was written all over his features, “And then what? How are we supposed to know that it worked? How are I supposed to know that you made it there safely? That you’re okay.”

His grip tightened with each word, and Minseok wince slightly at Sehun’s unexpected strength. He wouldn’t fight it—couldn’t. Minseok could feel his eyelids getting heavier and heavier, and with each slow blink of his eyes, Sehun slowly started to dissipate. So, Minseok coddled the undermost side of Sehun’s wrist, brushing his fingers against the skin, and managed a small smirk, “I’ll see you in there.”

And then it was dark and he knew he was far gone when he could no longer feel the boiling skin of Sehun’s wrist in between his fingers.

~

The faux world all around Minseok was empty, just a small breeze that pushed his hair back. 

He looked down to see that the clothes that he was wearing were not the ones he had been wearing outside the simulation. To his surprise and confusion, he was fitted into his formal dress attire, which was not the same as his uniform. His formal military dress attire comprised of a thick white jacket, decorated with some of the most intricate black and gold detailing that Minseok had ever seen in a uniform. 

_ Nothing but the best for my best man _ . The Captain had once said this to him, but he knew it was nothing but bullshit. It was the most subtle of ways for the Captain to flaunt the money he had stashed away, money that would never see the light of day, and who knew how much of that money had been obtained legally. 

The jacket was paired with a simple button up shirt that was tucked into solid black dress pants.

Minseok could silently thank a god somewhere that the uniform wasn’t actually there. He knew better than anyone else that it was a pain in the ass to clean, considering that it needed to be cleaned by hand whenever it got dirty. 

He still hadn’t been able to pin a reason as to why he was decorated in the ornate and luxurious attire. It was a simulation, but even then they hadn’t been given any mission details, and since it was a group training exercise, it wouldn’t—couldn’t—be the same objectives as say his own individual simulation. Their objective would either be that much harder or that much easier to achieve, but he wouldn’t know what that is until the time comes.

The longer Minseok strolled down the empty road of what looked to be some Earthen city, the more he realized just how alone he was. 

Given the circumstances, the rest of the EX’ACT team—or at least those who had crowded around him before falling into that state of unconsciousness—should have been here with him by now. They couldn’t have been sent to into different simulations, could they? It was meant to be a group training exercise after all, and in no reality did it make sense to Minseok for them to be separated in alternative scenarios. 

Minseok reached for the communicator that had linked up to his ear. He pressed down on the button and cleared his throat, “Sehun, are you there? Do you copy?”

He removed his hand from the device and continued to scan and study his surroundings. He strolled down a wide street which had been lined with various apartment complexes of various clashing colors, and it made Minseok’s head hurt just to look at them. They were terribly tall and even with the sun high in the sky, he could see the shadows of the adjacent buildings crossing one another in endless  _ x _ patterns. The city was completely and utterly empty. There were no sounds other than the passing wind; there were no birds chirping, no car engines running, not a single person in sight. Even the clacking of his shoes against the asphalt made his steps seem louder than they actually were as the noise echoed off of the buildings around him.

Minseok made a sudden halt at the sound of what was most likely a twig underneath someone’s shoe. He discretely looked down to see that the under part of both of his feet were twig free. As he turned ever so slowly, it didn’t take him long to discover the source of the noise.

About fifty yards out, a figure that looked like a person stood before him, completely covered in black from head to toe. If it had skin, he couldn’t see any of it. It had been consumed in deep black cloth that had bent and folded against its skin. Atop this piece of cloth, the figure wore what resembled a military officer’s uniform—thick black jacket decorated with simple button detailing just along the collarbones and shoulders, and a cylindrical cap with a short, shallow bill with white detailing.

He made no move to make his way  _ towards _ it, but the minute he took a step in an attempt to turn away from it, the figure multiplied into nearly fifty. 

Minseok’s heart began to pound rapidly against his ribcage. A subtle ache began to form where his heart met bone. 

The human-like figure took one single step in Minseok’s direction, and the world around them had run cold. A hiss sounded from the mass of black figures, and Minseok turned and ran as fast as his feet could possibly carry him.

~

He had been running for what felt like days, and who knew just how much time had passed outside of the sim. 

Running. Killing. Repeat. 

Every time he thought he had finally caught a break, one of those monstrous humans-that-weren’t-humans would emerge from even the most impossible places. Whatever these motherfuckers were, he had concluded that they  _ definitely _ weren’t human. It just took the shape of one.

He still hadn’t heard from or seen  _ any _ of the EX’ACT members ever since he entered the sim. Minseok wanted nothing more than to spew shards of ice from between his fingertip, but any time he would call for it, it would never answer. He was greeted with complete silence from deep within. 

His muscles ached and burned in all the right places, and it was moments like these that he couldn’t have been more grateful for the physical training sessions that ACE had been required to complete over these long years. 

Minseok had seen Jongdae first. He was the first of the other eight members to appear amidst the chaos that suffocated him every time he rounded a corner. The roof looked and felt a million miles away from where Minseok was taking down enemy after enemy in the street on the ground level of the simulation. 

They were both surrounded, but more than that, Minseok noticed that the pitch black masses were closing in on him, pushing him into a corner. 

_ Fuck _ . 

Minseok grunted as his back met the rock hard metal of the corner light post. He peered up at Jongdae once more before lifted his leg to kick away the last of his instigators, and while it was down, he rushed to grab it by the neck. He looked away and gave its head a quick firm twist, a series of cracks echoed through his ears, and then the mass went heavy in his arms. It landed with a thud, its head smacking against the asphalte. When he looked back to Jongdae, he was practically teetering on the edge of that far off rooftop. 

Minseok reached to press the button on his earpiece as an wave of mindless figures continued to force their way on Jongdae, who was managing, but it wouldn’t be long now before he would be overwhelmed by those faceless monsters. Some were being kicked or pulled off the roof, crashing into the sidewalks with such force that they were leaving cracks in the pavement. 

Minseok couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes away for even a single moment. Despite the sudden and desperate desire that nearly drove Minseok tearing through the street and up that building, he knew he needed to stay where he was. In the time that it would take him to race through that building, the possibility of something bad happening was high, “Jongdae, are you okay? Just give me some sort of sign that you can hear me.”

A sign never came.

Nothing more than those dark faceless enemies raining down all around him. By the time the last of them had fallen flat against the concrete, Minseok finally realized that Jongdae had been pushed so far back that he was reeling on the ledge of the building. Something short of a smile had fallen across Minseok’s face as relief flooded through him. Jongdae was safe. They were both safe. 

Minseok noted the black blood that painted the gray-black roads all around him. He lifted a hand to his ear piece once more, but before he could get any words out, he noticed that Jongdae was still standing on the ledge. He looked absolutely frozen, as if the strongest force in the universe had cemented him to that spot.

“Jongdae.”

No response. 

“Jongdae, can you hear me?” Minseok’s brows narrowed in worry, “Jongdae, _ answer me _ .”

The sudden swaying and stumbling that had overtaken Jongdae’s body was all the answer Minseok needed.

Fuck. Fuck.  _ Fuck _ .

“Jongdae!” Minseok hollered, “You need to—”

But it had been too late. Before Minseok could even get through his thought, Jongdae was free falling. Every muscle in his body screamed for him to move, to do something, to do  _ anything _ , but he was completely and utterly stunned. As if he had been trapped in his own ice, solid and frozen from the inside out.

_ Damnit! Move!  _ Move!

It were as if the wind had been knocked out of him, he couldn’t seem to catch his breath as Jongdae fell, and fell, and fell. 

“MINSEOK!” Junmyeon’s voice roared through the earpiece, “FUCKING DO SOMETHING!” 

It was the wake-up call Minseok needed to spring into action. He sprinted across the seemingly short distance, which was much longer than he anticipated; his body was moving faster than the speed of lightning. 

“Please, please,  _ please _ ,” Minseok chanted as he hurtled himself closer and closer to where Jongdae was going to land, tears ran from the outer corners of his eyes, “Please don’t let me be too late.”

And he nearly was. 

He didn’t know if it was pure luck, some string of fate, or the pumping of near fatal adrenaline that rushed through his veins, but the moment that Minseok stepped under his line of falling, Jongdae collided into Minseok’s body. The force of the crash of bone against bone created an indentation in the pavement, Minseok could practically see the dip in the cement in his peripheral vision, a fine thin dust cloud raised all around them. 

He could feel the heart wrenchingly slow rise and fall of Jongdae’s chest against his own, his ragged breath spilling over his neck in long strokes. 

“Jong–Jongdae…” Minseok’s voice was husky, the weight of Jongdae’s body crushing his ribcage.

But he didn’t say anything. Not even a whisper, not even a groan, not even a hum. Just an endless cycle of inhale and exhale brushing against his neck.

“ _ Jongdae _ ,” Minseok whispered, “Jongdae, get up, we have to move.”

Nothing.

Minseok used the last of his strength to push Jongdae off of his body, who was a complete dead weight. Yet, he had managed to peel him off before the airflow of his windpipe was cut off completely. Worry and concern washed over him when he realized that Jongdae wasn’t moving; he was up and out of the divit that their bodies had formed in the ground and was on the younger. He gripped him by the shoulders and hoisted him into a sitting position. His head was like a heavy weight dangling on a flimsy foundation.

“Jongdae?” Minseok placed a hand on the back of Jongdae’s neck for support, even though he knew the both of them were going to feel the soreness that would settle deep at the center of their bones when they’d wake up tomorrow—or whenever they got to leave this cursed place. He used his free hand to cup the side of his beautiful face. It had been caked with dust which had started to collect in his generously long lashes, across those slim yet full lips, and across the plains of his silky smooth skin. He almost didn’t want to disturb the induced peaceful sleep that had overcome him, but they couldn’t stay here. They needed to get out of this sim. They needed to get out before those faceless soldiers started flocking to them once more.

 

He snaked his arms around Jongdae’s limp body, pulling him in close. He almost couldn’t believe that he wanted to push  _ this _ away—push Jongdae away. He wanted to blame the injection that had put a limit on his elemental power which allowed him to feel just how intense the longing in his heart was, but he knew he couldn’t. 

“Please,” Minseok whispered against Jongdae’s hair, his lips brushing the edge of his ear ever so slightly, “Jongdae,  _ please _ ....”

Minseok pressed his cheek against the side of Jongdae’s, and he felt like he was suffocating—a thick fog clouding each of his senses. Or perhaps, it was the intense heat that was radiating from Jongdae’s body that could not longer be veiled by the power that now lay dormant deep in his soul.

“I’ve got you, Jongdae. You’re okay now, I’ve got you.”

He didn’t know where Junmyeon was, but he knew that he was near. He could feel his eyes piercing him from wherever he stood. 

Minseok reached up and tore the earpiece from his ear, letting it dangle around his neck.

“Jongdae,” his name passed through his lips in a low voice, “If you can hear me...I need you to know that—”

An agonizing tearful chuckle passed through him as he choked on the words that he really wanted to say. He wrapped an arm around the small of Jongdae’s back, “If we get attacked by those bastards again, and I have to fight them all on my own, I will single handedly kick your ass once we get out of here.”

His shoulder trembled as he bit back the tears that threatened to spill.

“Please don’t let me be out of time already,  _ Dae _ ,” His voice was hoarse as he whispered, “Not when I’ve already—” 

He swallowed the words again. He lifted a hand and sank it deep into the back of Jongdae’s hair, which was like pure liquid velvet in between his fingers.

“Come back to me…” 

He tightened his grip around the younger’s body, and he could taste the blood that ran its course across his tongue from biting his lip so hard. The ache in his heart grew immensely from the lack of life that made Jongdae’s body look gray. He couldn’t handle how much the ache had hurt, to call it an ache felt like a lie. His body felt like it was on fire, one that couldn’t be put out with water alone. 

He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but he didn’t even know what to say without spilling everything that bombarded him every single night whenever he tried to sleep. He couldn’t even recall the last time he had gotten a good night’s sleep in the last week or so. His mind was running a cycle of endless marathons. When would it rest? When would it stop to breathe? He was overwhelmed by its ability to think so much. 

In those late hours that he would lie awake, he couldn’t help but think about the sound of Jongdae’s soft breathing. It was hypnotic, a sweet song that did absolutely nothing to put him to sleep. His presence alone tested his patience. 

He felt a warm hand wrap around his thigh, and Minseok jumped in surprise at the contact. He leaned away, just enough to look into those warm brown eyes that had finally graced him with their beauty. 

Jongdae warmly smiled at him. It looked like it had taken everything in Jongdae to muster that tired smile; Minseok didn’t even bother to wipe away the stray tear that fell down his face. Jongdae moved his hand and rested it on the side of Minseok’s waist, “I never went anywhere, Min. I’m here.”

_ Min _ .

It was like music to his ears and a scalding heartbreak all at once. A breath of fresh air and a hand tightening around his throat. He had never been happier and scared in his life. 

Jongdae looked disoriented, as if he had been lost for a long time and had been reintroduced to the world, “Min...what–what happened?”

Minseok’s heart squeezed in his chest. He pushed the leader who had been running rampant over the last several days deep down in the back of him mind, and fit his hand in the crook of Jongdae’s neck, “You–you fell, Dae. You were fighting those... _ things _ , and once you finished them all off, you just...swayed, and fell. If anything, I feel like  _ I _ should be asking  _ you  _ what happened.”

Jongdae seemed taken aback by the words, he just shook his head, his eyes meeting his own, “I don’t know. Ever since we began, I’ve been feeling... _ off _ , dizzy,  _ heavy _ .”

“Heavy?”

He nodded, “After we were given the injections, it just felt like the lightning sank straight to my feet. It just feels...wrong.”

Minseok studied Jongdae’s face for a long moment without saying a single thing. What Jongdae had described worried him immensely. He felt fine himself, he couldn’t speak for how the other members had been feeling, but he knew ACE better than he knew himself. If they had been feeling, to use Jongdae’s words,  _ off  _ then they wouldn’t have kept it to themselves. If he could ensure anything about his team with the utmost confidence, it would be that they were consistently vocal about how they were feeling. 

He cleared his throat, “Can you stand, at least?”

Jongdae nodded, but Minseok didn’t feel confident in his answer. He slipped Jongdae’s arm around his neck and lifted the both of them with his legs. He used his free hand to slip the ear piece back into his ear, pressing down on the button, “Jun, do you copy?”

The silence from Junmyeon’s end didn’t last long, “Are you two okay?”

“Could you come down here and help me?”

And as if Junmyeon had learned how to teleport, he was there in less time than Minseok cared to admit. 

“What happened?” Junmyeon inquired.

Minseok rolled his eyes, “I don’t know why you’re asking me as if you didn’t see what happened.”

Junmyeon said nothing else, he just moved to Jongdae’s other side to support his body on both sides.

“I’m fine,” Jongdae sighed.

Minseok rolled his eyes as the three of them trekked into the nearest building to get Jongdae some shelter. They had entered through one of the many apartment complexes that made up the city, the interior of the unit was plain, filled with white walls and several empty service desks. Yet, what stood out to Minseok the most was the deep burgundy red spiral staircase that stretched from the ground floor to the nth floor which reached up the vast length of the building. 

Minseok and Junmyeon had pushed Jongdae into one of the empty rooms of the complex, placing him gently onto one of the couches that had seemed to be collecting dust in the living room. Once they were sure that he was comfortable enough, Junmyeon tugged Minseok away by the collar into one of the bedrooms. Both of them tore their earpieces out as they plopped down onto separate pieces of furniture. 

“Where the hell have you been?” Minseok scolded his second in command, who was now rolling up the sleeves of his white buttoned up shirt, one button undone.

He had just realized now that both Jongdae and Junmyeon had been dressed in very similar dress attire as himself, and an onslaught of confusion had taken over where his reason and logic should have been.

“You’re not the only one who had been dealing with those  _ things _ ,” Junmyeon scoffed, “I’ve been running from these things, just as you have, so I’m sorry that I’ve been a little busy.”

It was the first time that Minseok had heard Junmyeon blatantly put him in his place, as subtle as the gesture was. 

It had taken everything in Minseok to stop the habitual roll of his eyes, “Where are the others?”

Junmyeon slowly descended until his back was flat against the mattress, breathing out a sigh of frustration, “I was just with Baekhyun, but we were separated by a sea of those shells of a human being before we could put together a course of action.”

Minseok scowled at the thought of Baekhyun working with any of his men, but he kept his mouth shut, considering that only he and Yixing knew the truth. 

Junmyeon cleared his throat, “It wasn’t too long after that when I saw Jongdae across a rooftop, and when I looked down, you were there snapping the neck of one of those creatures.”

Minseok’s neck twitched at the thought, and something short of a shiver ran up his spine. It’s not that he couldn’t kill, but he never took satisfaction in the act of killing unless they completely deserved it. And even though the black figures were nothing more than simulated threats and terrors designed to pump some adrenaline and test their skill, the ceaseless killing made Minseok’s blood  _ feel _ wrong.

“Junmyeon,” Minseok slouched against the armchair he had settled in, “After you received the injection, how did you, I don’t know... _ feel _ ?”

His second in command sat up in the bed once more, his brows furrowed in contemplation, “Sehun insisted on being the next person to be treated after you, and one after another the others started to volunteer as well. When I came to volunteer, the only people who hadn’t been injected yet were Baekhyun and Kyungsoo. Jongdae had been eager to join you guys, so he went right before me. At first, I felt like nothing had happened at all, until I started to feel like I was being lulled into sleep, and then a shadow of darkness overcame me. But I don’t feel too out of the ordinary. I mean, sure, it feels odd to not have a power to call and command, but I feel normal.”

Minseok turned his words over in his head, “So, you don’t feel, say...heavy?”

Junmyeon shook his head, “Should I?”

Minseok ran a hand through his sweat soaked hair and sighed, “Don’t worry about it. For now, we need to focus on finding the others.”

Junmyeon crossed his legs, “Well, Baekhyun can’t be too far off from here, considering that he and I got separated not even a mile away from here. As for the rest of the members, well, they could be anywhere. And who knows how far the barriers of this simulation stretch.” 

He mindlessly nodded at the words that spewed from Junmyeon’s lips. They still hadn’t put together whatever the main objective of the sim was supposed to be, and without the other six members, they wouldn’t be able to accomplish  _ anything _ until they were brought together. 

“We’ve been here too long,” Minseok stated, “We need to keep moving,  _ I _ need to keep moving.”

He stood to pace around the room, and the more he pace the smaller the room felt, the more his blood itched to find the others. Junmyeon hadn’t said a single word regarding Minseok’s behavior and he hoped to keep it that way. 

“Jun,” Minseok pulled his arms through his jacket and fixed the collar of his shirt, “Promise me you’ll look after Jongdae while I go out for a bit. He needs to rest and I won’t be able to work properly or think straight if  I know he’s here alone. Even though this is a simulation, we still need to rest, and right now...well, consider that an order.”

Junmyeon looked dumbfounded by Minseok’s command, and before he could counter his decision, Jongdae pushed the door open, his presence filling the space around them. 

“Minseok,” Jongdae’s voice sounded like he was pleading, “I’m fine, I can do this, I can help. I swear.” 

“Jongdae…”

“I’m  _ fine _ ,” he insisted, “how am I supposed to rest, anyways, if I knew you were out there, hunting down all of those creatures on your own? I wouldn’t be able to even get through five minutes alone with those thoughts. So, please...don’t leave me behind.”

Minseok wanted so badly to give into his plea, but something deep down inside of him was screaming, telling him no. Jongdae looked like he was mere seconds away from breaking under his own pressure, which was the precise reason why Minseok wanted to protect him from whatever waited for them out there. Because the minute one of them got caught by those packs of faceless monsters, it would be over for all nine of them. It was the only thing he was sure of in this forsaken place.

“Minseok, please,” Jongdae begged. 

“Please don’t make this harder than it already is,” Minseok slightly squared his shoulders, he could feel the leader in him rising up. He had already opened up his heart too much, and it pained him each time he forced himself to scale back. Doing so felt like waking up from a mix of a good and bad night’s sleep, he felt both physically and emotionally spent, but all the while his mind felt more open to the feelings that he felt conflicted about exploring. “Just stay here and rest, just for a little bit. We can’t compromise this mission for any reason, especially after a fall like that. So please...I’ll call for you. I will.”

“You caught me, Minseok,” Jongdae spat back, “Significant damage must have been done to both of us—”

“I didn’t pass out, Jongdae,” Minseok raised his voice, “Stay here, I mean it.”

Jongdae didn’t have any retort, he just plopped down onto the side of the bed, face drowning in disbelief. Minseok eyed Junmyeon with that knowing, demanding look before slamming the door shut behind him. 

~

The walls rattled as Minseok slammed the door, leaving Jongdae to sit in the dimly lit room with Junmyeon. He stared at the door, hoping that Minseok would come back through at any moment to take back all of the things he had said, but he never came. 

Junmyeon’s soft voice broke the silence nearly half an hour later, “He means well, Jongdae.”

“He needs us,” Jongdae stated plainly.

“Minseok is a lot more resilient than you give him credit for.”

“And  _ I _ am a lot more resilient than  _ he  _ gives me credit for.”

“Debatable.”

Jongdae shot his head towards the second-in-command, “Excuse me?”

A smirk had spread across Junmyeon’s face, “Your track record from your time with us doesn’t seem to support that statement.”

Jongdae crinkled his eyebrows in frustration, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Everytime we have a training exercise, you typically get knocked out, it’s almost pathetic. Not even Chanyeol gets knocked down that often, and it almost pains me to see how Minseok coddles you whenever it happens.”

“Coddles me?” Jongdae repeats, “Well, then you clearly haven’t noticed how he’s been giving me the cold shoulder as of late.”

A low chuckle rumbled in Junmyeon’s chest, “I think you need to open your minds eye a little more, Jongdae. Minseok is always watching over you, and it’s clear that you haven’t realized this by now.”

“I think I would have noticed if—”

“No,” Junmyeon interjected, “I’m the most observant member of this team. I have to be, because when Minseok gets in a mood, or gets preoccupied with other matters, it’s my job to take the reigns. Sometimes I have to figure it out for myself, and I’ve come to know all of Minseok’s attitudes and behaviors. I know him better than anyone else. You...you know next to nothing in comparison to what I know, what I’ve  _ seen _ . So, no, you haven’t noticed.”

Jongdae was completely taken aback by the sudden shift in Junmyeon’s voice, his attitude. The tension in the room was so thick that he probably could have cut himself open with it. 

He stood and made his way for the door when Junmyeon suddenly shot up.

“Where do you think you’re going?” 

It took everything in Jongdae to keep from rolling his eyes, “It’s pretty clear that I don’t want to be in the same room as you right now, so I’m going into the kitchen.”

Junmyeon backed off and returned to his familiar spot on the bed as Jongdae tore from the room, shutting the door behind him. 

He couldn’t be cooped up in the apartment any longer, not when his lightning felt like an overbearing load on his soul. The minute the door clicked shut, he made a silent dash for the front door. He ripped it open as quietly as he could, and the fresh air revived him. 

It had become dark in the time that they had been sheltered away in the apartment, but he wouldn’t let that hold him back.

The thought of Minseok tearing through those monsters all on his own in search for the other EX’ACT members was enough to fuel Jongdae. 

So, with no hesitation at all, he stepped out into the sim, and followed whatever trail that would lead him straight for the Ice Prince. The city lights were dim, occasionally flickering in and out of existence, but he figured that some light was better than none. His head spun lightly and he begrudgingly admitted to himself that Minseok was  _ somewhat _ right. That ‘heavy’ feeling hadn’t gone away, it hadn’t improved either but it also hadn’t gotten any worse, so Jongdae took what he could get. It made it more difficult to squint through the hazy lighting and maneuver his way through the city streets. He wasn’t as agile as usual but he pushed through, careful, ears poised for the slightest inkling of a sound.

The surrounding area was strangely silent, only the soft fall of his rapid footsteps filling the air. He was tempted to simply yell out anyone’s name after falling on a dead end or an empty street for the nth time, the monsters finding out his location be damned. Finally, luck came to him as he rounded a corner to spot a tall and lean silhouette. He came to a quick stop to assess the situation. In the faint light, he could make out the shape of military padded shoulders and stiff cut of a uniform. From the height and outfit it had to be ACE... _ Sehun. _

Jongdae bit his tongue to keep from saying his name like an idiot, instead choosing to sprint over to him after quickly checking his surroundings. 

“Sehun!” He whispered lowly but harshly, reaching out to tap the younger on his arm. Only…he was met with a featureless, black as pitch face when  _ ‘Sehun’  _ turned around. He let out a barely audible gasp and quickly pulled away, putting necessary distance between him and the  _ creature _ . In the next moment, as if on cue, the sound of multiple sets of feet slapping across the pavement filled the area. Jongdae spins around to see dozens, dozens more of those things jumping from buildings and coming from the shadows, seemingly out of nowhere.

_ It was a fucking trap _ .

And Jongdae was the genius who fell right into it. 

Instantly, despite his sluggishness, his body fell back into combat mode, adrenaline reigniting in his veins and allowing to think that much clearer. He wasn’t sure how long it was going to last but he’d make sure it would until either he found a way out or he was the last one left standing. The one closest to him was the easiest target, getting behind it and snapping its neck before the others even managed to reach him. He barely had time to let it slump to the floor before he felt a hand wrapping around his upper arm. Jongdae ripped his arm free, turning around to land a solid punch in his assailant’s face, driving the back enough for him to run off. 

He needed a plan. There were too many. He dodged hands that grabbed at him, kicking, snapping necks as he went, but there was only so much he could do without any weapons, without his  _ lighting _ , against so many of them. He had to find a way to take out multiples at a time or he’d never get out alive. He needed a gun, knife, a baton,  _ something _ .

His eyes fell on a car parked just a little ways to the left of him. 

Bingo.

He ran to the car as fast as he possibly could and wastes no time in punching right through the window. Glass sliced at his knuckles but he didn’t even feel the burn, closing his hand around a piece of glass plenty large enough to cause some damage. And cause some damage he did. Soon enough, the lifeless bodies of those things littered the area in pools of the black sludge they call blood. Jongdae’s hand  _ burned _ , sliced raw from the use of his impromptu weapon and he was forced to switch to his non-dominant one, but the same problem was arising with that one and he found himself biting on his tongue to keep from gasping in pain every time he drove the glass blade through something. The black blood mixed with own and soaked through his clothes and stained his skin. He was running out of steam and fast but they just kept on coming.

He kept thinking  _ what if, what if, what if _ . What if he was at his one hundred percent? What if he had access to his power? What if he had listened to Minseok and stayed inside with Junmyeon?

But none of that mattered, because he couldn’t control all those variables; he was here now and that’s what he needed to focus on. He took a deep, oxygen rich breath to somewhat settled his nerves and made for stabbing the monster to his right but it simply fell to the ground before the tip of the shard could make contact. Jongdae glanced down, astonished, only to see a bullet hole in the center of its forehead. His head immediately whipped to the direction the shot came from and he spotted someone on the roof of a nearby building, waving an arm at him wildly. Alongside the wall was a tightly knotted rope that dangled from said roof. Clearly it was meant for him to use to climb up. Jongdae couldn’t be one hundred percent sure who it was (and given his track record he couldn’t exactly trust himself one-hundred percent either…) but he figured it was easier to take his chances with one guy than keep fighting a losing battle down here.

Jongdae made it to the base of the building in record time, aided immensely by the person who shot any thing that got too close or that Jongdae couldn’t get. He grabbed the rope with both his hands, ignoring the way they  _ screamed  _ at him as the rope chafed his cuts in the worst of ways. The person immediately started tugging Jongdae up at a hasty rate, well as hastily as he could. There was a dicey moment where a creature had grabbed onto Jongdae’s ankle, nearly causing him to let go, but a well placed kick to the face took care of that issue. The moment he reached the top, they hooked their arms under his shoulders and hoisted him over the ledge. They collapsed in a panting heap, adrenaline burning in their veins.

“What the hell has ACE been feeding you, Jongdae? I don’t remember you being that heavy,” came a voice Jongdae was very familiar with and relief hit him with the force of a truck.

Jongdae turned his head to see Baekhyun’s ever-teasing smile and for the first time in his life, he ignored the other’s wise crack and pulled him into a deep gratitude-filled kiss. The kiss was much too brief considering Baekhyun pulled away. He was vaguely aware of the gun’s barrel that was pressed up against his thigh as Baekhyun pulled back. 

“You’re okay?” Baekhyun ran a hand down Jongdae’s hair to smooth it down, surveying him for any sign of injury, “You’re not hurt are you?”

Jongdae’s whole body screamed with exhaustion and the desire to collapse into Baekhyun’s arms right then and there was wildly overwhelming. Yet, the first sign of staggered hissing from below was enough to remind him that he needed to get to Minseok as soon as he could. 

“I’m fine,” Jongdae ignored the slight burn in his hand that was being masked by his pumping adrenaline as she scanned the rooftops around them. “Look, we need to get to Minseok as fast as we can, have you seen him?”

Baekhyun shook his head. He hurried over to the edge and pulled up the remainder of the rope to ensure that none of those monstrosities would follow them up, “I ran into Junmyeon a while back, but we were separated before we could figure something out. Why are we looking for Minseok?”

“He’s trying to find the others,” Jongdae offered. “But he’s out there on his own, and there are too many of those... _ things _ for one person.” 

Baekhyun nodded, acknowledging his worries, “Okay, I promise you that we’ll do what we can, but we won’t be able to do much with your hands in that condition.”

They both looked down to Jongdae’s bloodied hand, and he couldn’t help but feel somewhat insecure at the slight of the mess that ran between them. Baekhyun removed his jacket and ripped the white button up that they all seemed to be wearing and wrapped it around his hands. He placed the jacket back on, quickly buttoned up several of the buttons before grabbing Jongdae by the arm and leading him over to the opposite side of the building. 

“Do you trust me?” Baekhyun fiddled with the rope that he had used to haul him up the side of the building, tying it to a nearby antenna pole. 

Jongdae started to put his plan together in his mind as Baekhyun flung the rope over the edge, “Baek...I trust you with my whole life, but my hands…”

“I’m going to take care of it,” Baekhyun grasped Jongdae’s wrist and gave it a quick reassuring squeeze, “I’m going to take care of  _ you _ , I promise.”

It had been the first promise Jongdae had heard in a while. Not since Minseok’s final offering to him. 

Baekhyun began tying the rope around the the middle of Jongdae’s waist, tightening it as tight as he could without causing him any serious harm. 

“Just take a deep breath, okay?” Baekhyun consoled, “I’m going to lower you down onto the ground, and I’ll follow shortly.”

“Baek, I—”

“Dae…” Baekhyun gathered his face in between his long, slender fingers. He pressed their lips together for a chaste, yet desperate kiss, and he offered him a small smile as he pulled away, “Trust me.”

The corners of Jongdae’s lips flickered as Baekhyun steered him closer and closer to the edge of the building. When the back of his knees hit the wall, Baekhyun kissed his forehead. 

“Step up onto the ledge, and slowly begin walking backwards down the side of the building,” Baekhyun instructed, “I’m going to hold onto the rope as you go down.”

Jongdae took a deep breath and did as Baekhyun told him. When he reached the bottom, he quickly untied himself and tugged on the rope, signalling to Baekhyun that it was okay for him to follow.

Baekhyun made it down much faster than he had anticipated, and wasted no time in clasping a hand around his arm, leading him away from those lifeless puppets. 

~

As he patched up his hands, Baekhyun explained that he found the apartment they now inhabited after he and Junmyeon got separated. 

“When we all entered the sim, I had been on the completely opposite side of town,” Baekhyun prefaced. “In all honesty, it felt like not much time had passed, but when I noticed the sun starting to go down, I knew that we all needed to speed up the pace. Or at least find shelter. Junmyeon was the first person I had found, only a couple of blocks away, since we had entered. Then we were ambushed by those things out there. One of them had come straight through the wall and I could tell that both of us were panicking, so we split up the find whatever weaponry we could outside of the bows and arrows we were all given at the start of this. Before we could even come back together, it seemed like we both had been overwhelmed by an onslaught of those masked beings, whatever they might be. After I finished off the ones that had come onto me, I immediately went to look for him, but he was nowhere to be seen.” 

“The last time I saw him, I left him in the apartment that we were all hiding out in, not long after Minseok went and look for everyone else,” Jongdae explained, “I doubt he’s there now. I’m sure he’s noticed that I’ve left and is probably worried that Minseok will bury him alive for letting me out of his sight.”

Baekhyun sighed, “Typical Jongdae, you could never listen to orders well, could you?”

Jongdae shrugged playfully as Baekhyun wrapped the last of the bandage around his hand. 

“They’re going to be stiff,” Baekhyun warned, “So, if it comes down to it, you might not be able to fight.”

Jongdae nodded. Even if it hadn’t been bandaged up, it would have been completely useless to him, lightning or no lightning. 

He noticed that Baekhyun hadn’t let go of his hand yet, and in response Jongdae used his free hand to cover both of theirs. 

“Tell me,” Jongdae tilted his head slightly, “What’s bothering you?”

Baekhyun sighed in defeat, “I never could get anything passed you.”

Jongdae smiled sweetly and then shook his head, “You were trying to tell me something before Chanyeol interrupted us. You said some…concerning things. Baek…I keep replaying it in my head. You scared me, you’re  _ scaring  _ me. You looked like you were saying goodbye to me, to  _ us _ . Is that what it is? I need to know.  _ Please _ ,” his smile wobbled and ultimately gave way to a trembling pout. He tried to keep the tears at bay as best as he could but a few managed to escape, following the curve of his cheek, “Please tell me why you’re so afraid to hear me say that I love you. Because I do. I love you so much it hurts. Baekhyun  _ please _ …”

The ache in Baekhyun’s chest was so deep he felt like he could vomit. To see Jongdae clearly so distraught and him at the root of it all made self hatred fester in his gut, his heart, in his entire being, so potent he could feel it in his bones.

And he was about to make everything so much worse.

He wiped a stray tear from Jongdae’s face with trembling fingers. The urge to lean in to kiss him right then and there was too great and he was too weak a man to resist, so he did so, fervently, the desperation so thick they could taste it on their tongues, feel it in the way long slim fingers cupped Jongdae’s jaw to tug him so close. He swallowed every sigh, every shuddering breath, could taste the salt of tears; whether they were his or Jongdae’s he couldn’t tell. Maybe they belonged to both, blending together as a physical product of their shared distress; a distress which was wholly centered around the other. He kissed him as if he wanted to take every little part of Jongdae, the heat of his mouth, the tiny pleased sounds, the heat of his body pressed so close and commit them to memory, put them into a bottle and seal the cap so they were his to cherish for eternity.

It physically pained Baekhyun to pull away, stealing one last chaste brush of lips before bringing his other hand up to Jongdae’s face so that he was holding it in his hands, holding his world. Jongdae stared at him, eyes dazed, saddened, confused beneath mile long lashes which clumped together with tears. A thumb brushed against the blunt of his cheekbone before it stops on a high point. At the first tap, cold apprehension sank to the pit of Jongdae’s stomach and mixed with the usual warm feeling. 

“I,” Jongdae breathed so lowly so only Baekhyun could possibly hear. The two lost in their own little world.

_ Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. _

“Love,” Baekhyun responded, voice shaky and choked.

_ Tap. Tap. Tap. _

“You,” Jongdae finished, pressing a light kiss into Baekhyun’s palm.

Baekhyun shut his eyes so tightly it was painful. He welcomed it with open arms, physical pain was so much simpler to deal with than your heart crumbling in your chest.

“Jongdae…” He tried to swallow past the large lump in his throat and opened his eyes, meeting Jongdae’s gaze head on.

“I belong to ACE.”


	34. CHAPTER 34: JONGDAE & BAEKHYUN

_ I belong to ACE. _

_ I belong to ACE. _

I belong to ACE.

A mixture of confusion and shock fell upon Jongdae’s heart. A chuckle passed through his lips, “But...we all do, Baek. We’re all on the same team now.”

Baekhyun’s lips wobbled, and his voice cracked when he could finally bring himself to speak, “No...Dae. I have  _ always _ belonged to ACE. The Captain—he—”

He choked on the sob that was rising in his throat as the look on Jongdae’s face contorted into one part disbelief, one part panic. 

He knew he was at the point of no return.

“What are you trying to say, Baek?” Jongdae stepped out of Baekhyun’s grasp.

It was the first step to this new found emptiness that was beginning to settle deep inside of himself. Baekhyun swallowed back whatever tears he could and forced himself to look Jongdae in the eye, “Everything you knew about me when we first met...it was a lie. All of it. I was penniless and was willing to do whatever I could to provide for myself, and I know that’s not excuse for what I’ve done, but...when I was recruited by the Captain for this mission, I would have been a fool to pass up his offer.”

Jongdae took several steps back until he hit the wall. He felt sick to his stomach, “What is your mission, Baekhyun…”

Baekhyun winced at the lifeless voice that passed through Jongdae. They both stood for a long moment just staring at one another.

“Your mission,  _ Baekhyun _ ...” Jongdae gritted through his teeth, a tell-tale sign of impatience that Baekhyun knew too well.

Baekhyun gulped back his fear, “It was you. Yixing. Jongin. All of you. I had been tasked with the assignment to report on, infiltrate, and—” he choked on the words, “ _ dispose _ of Alpha’s stealth operative group.”

Despite the infinite questions that ran through his mind, Jongdae couldn’t listen anymore.

_ Spy _ .

He felt like he was suffocating under the weight of the world, and with his lightning locked away, there was no unleashing the stress that felt like scalding hot iron against his psyche.

_ Infiltrate _ .

He didn’t even spare Baekhyun a glance as he tore from the room; he needed to get as far away as he possibly could before he did or said something he’d regret. But what was there to regret at this point? The man who he was supposed to love just admitted that he was hired to gain his trust, only to kill him after everything was said and done.

_ Dispose _ .

He hadn’t even made it to the ground floor of the apartment complex when he realized a group of those lifeless, soulless beings were making their way up the stairs. Jongdae didn’t even so much as flinch at their hisses as they got closer and closer.

“Jongdae!” Baekhyun shrieked, “ _ Run _ ! Get out of there!”

_ We can’t compromise this mission for any reason _ . That’s what Minseok had said, but the mission had already been compromised.  _ Everything _ had been compromised. 

Baekhyun tore down the stairs when he realized that Jongdae was going to do nothing to save himself, but he was too far, he knew he wouldn’t make it in time. 

“ _ Dae _ !” His name ripped through his throat. 

Acceptance had already been embedded into his blood as Jongdae came face to face with nearly ten of those hungry creatures. 

And the last thing he saw was Baekhyun’s horror-filled expression, desperately reaching for him, when one of the soldier-like creature snapped his neck.


	35. CHAPTER 35: TEAM EX'ACT

 

Minseok felt disoriented as he crashed landed onto Sehun. They had both been mid-swing, mere seconds away from taking out as many as those faceless motherfuckers as they could. Now they were nothing more than a mess of tangled limbs. The impact alone would probably leave several bruises. 

“What the hell happened?” Sehun asked, pushing himself off of Minseok and extending a hand to help him up. 

Minseok craned his neck to briefly survey the room. Chanyeol, Kyungsoo, and Yixing had their heads huddled together in a very similar manner. He didn’t even have enough time to check to see how the others were doing as Jongdae stumbled towards the door. He fumbled with the knob for a long moment, his face completely and utterly vacant. When he finally managed to yank the door back, it were as if he couldn’t get out fast enough.

“ _ Dae _ !” Baekhyun hollered desperately, “ _ Please _ ...wait!”

Sehun moved much quicker than Minseok and caught Baekhyun by the elbow, “Baekhyun, stop.”

“Let me go.”

“Tell us what happened,” Sehun demanded.

Baekhyun attempted to tear his arm away, but Sehun’s grip was much stronger than he could ever anticipate, “I said... _ let me go _ .”

“Not until you tell us what happened in there,” Sehun pushed back. “Something happened, it’s the only logical reason for why we are all standing here now, and the both of you know what it is.”

Minseok’s mind was racing at a million miles an hour in a million different directions, but his feet began to follow one distinct path, and there was no stopping him. 

_ Jongdae _ .

He needed to get to him. 

He was practically sprinting when he heard Jongin calling after him, but once he cleared the door, no one had even bothered to chase him down. He was a man on a mission, one that was more important than all of the others he had been on combined. He hadn’t thought that Jongdae could have gotten far this quickly, but Minseok that was until he found himself sprinting up a series of stairs in search of the younger.

“Jongdae!” Minseok’s voice echoed off of the walls as he pushed through the heavy door that separated him from the spiral staircase and the hallway that would lead him to his bedroom. 

The news was out. It had to be.

And if that was the case, he knew exactly what Jongdae would be looking for. 

Proof. Proof that would confirm what he had been told. Any kind that he could get his hands on.

He took a moment to collect himself before entering his room, one that he hadn’t slept in in several days. His took various deep breaths and pushed a hand through his hair, shaking it several times until he was satisfied with how it felt.

He pushed the button, releasing the sliding door, and slowly made his way into the room. There were papers  _ everywhere _ : his bed, his desk (the floor surrounding both), as well as the couches. Just beyond all of that was Jongdae frantically working at his computer.

“Jongdae,” Minseok’s voice rang throughout the room. 

Jongdae didn’t even so much as blink or flinch at the sound of his voice; he was completely lost in a sea of code. 

Minseok charged through the room, rounding the desk and almost clipping his hip bone in the process, and pulled Jongdae by the arm, which dragged the chair he was sitting in away from the computer.

“Get off of me,” Jongdae ordered, his voice husky.

Jongdae tried to jerk free from Minseok’s grasp, but that only caused him to grip the chair to further prevent him from going anywhere. They looked at each other for a long moment, and just when Minseok thought Jongdae’s features were going to relax, they hardened again.

“Do you really want to do this?” Minseok whispered. 

“I have to,” Jongdae spat.

“And what do you think you’re going to find that you already don’t know?”

Jongdae’s body went slack in the chair. Now that the adrenaline had worn thin, he realized just how much heavier he felt than he did while in the simulation. His lightning pulled and screamed at him from every possible angle and the urge to release it was greater than words could ever describe. 

Minseok reached for Jongdae’s hand, but recoiled at the searing heat that was being omitted from his body.

“Jongdae, get up,” Minseok commanded. 

But he didn’t want to move. He would have been fine with his lightning consuming him, eating him up from the inside out until there was nothing left—until he was nothing more than a shell of a man.

“ _ Jongdae _ !” Yixing’s voice filled the room, and Minseok eyed him with concern as he approached.

“Yixing,” Minseok breathed, “What’s going on?”

Yixing flinched as he placed his hands on Jongdae’s neck. 

The amount of internal body heat that was being omitted from his body had to be lethal. If he had been any other normal human being, the feverish heat would have, without a doubt, killed him. 

“Jongdae,” Yixing’s voice was low as he crouched down in front of him, “I need you to talk me through this. What are you feeling? What kind of pain are you in?”

A single tear slid down Jongdae’s cheek as he loosed a shaky breath, “I feel—I feel suffocated...numb.” 

Both Minseok and Yixing crinkled their brows at one another at Jongdae’s vague description. 

_ Heavy _ .

The realization was so overwhelming as Minseok pushed himself closer, “Dae... _ Dae _ , your lightning—”

Jongdae shook his head, and it was all the answer that both Yixing and Minseok needed. 

Minseok stood to rip his jacket off and rolled up his sleeves, “His lightning is still being subdued, and there’s no way for him to release it until that serum wears off. Since we didn’t complete our simulation, we are going to have to wait until it wears down on its own. For now, we need to get him under cold water. We can’t run the risk of him overheating to the point where he could die.”

Yixing didn’t need any other sort of direction as he ran off towards the bathroom door that was adjacent to Minseok’s bed, the sound of running water echoed at a distance.

Minseok cringed at Jongdae’s suffocating body heat as he pulled Jongdae’s arms over his shoulders, the both of them stumbling their way over to the bathroom. When they passed through the door, Yixing waited with towels in hand before setting them down on the black granite countertop. 

Minseok grunted as he placed Jongdae down on the floor just before the shower, “I’ve got it from here, Yixing. For now, find Kyungsoo. The both of you head down to the physical training room and install the protective barriers around the room, once this serum runs its course, Jongdae’s going to need a place to release all of that built up electricity that’s flowing in his veins.”

“Yes, sir,” Yixing sounded exasperated as he tore from the bathroom, his footsteps getting farther and farther away as the seconds passed. 

Minseok turned back to Jongdae who looked worse than he had in the chair. He had turned an alarming shade of white and the way his eyes drooped made Minseok’s heart skip several beats. 

“Hey, Jongdae,  _ hey _ ,” Minseok used one had to cup his face so that Jongdae could look him in the eyes, while the other hand fiddled with the buttons on Jongdae’s shirt, “Stay with me, Dae. You have to stay awake.”

Minseok’s voice was dripping with desperation, which flooded through the cracks of the facade that the leader in him had put up. And now the walls were down, shattered into nothing. The fog had lifted and Jongdae had a front row seat to the magnificent sight of the shining stars that never had their chance to shine the way they should. 

Jongdae’s breath was thick and labored, but Minseok had caught the attempt to speak, “Min—”

“I’m here, Dae,” Minseok used a hand to push back the hair that hung low in Jongdae’s face, pinning it with a stray clip that sat on the bathroom counter, “You’re okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

Minseok pushed Jongdae’s shirt off of his shoulders, tossing the fabric to the side once it was off. He couldn’t help but feel hesitant as his hand hovered over the buttons of his pants. It felt like a breach of privacy, one that could never compare to the documents he had dedicated hours for to study each of the Rogue members. He pushed the insecurity and embarrassment away, thinking about how Jongdae needed to cool down, and the clothes were going to do nothing to help. They would just add to the heaviness he already felt. It took several movements, but he managed to remove the pants, opting the keep the undergarments for the sake of Jongdae’s comfort—as well as his own. 

He pulled Jongdae into his arms, slipping one arm under his legs while the other supported his neck, lifting the younger with his legs. The icy cold water felt like a breath of fresh air against Minseok’s skin as he set Jongdae onto the tiled shower floor. 

Minseok’s dark black button-up shirt and dress pants were sticking to him like glue as he crouched down and began massaging the water into Jongdae’s skin, into the burning muscles that were so hot that they felt almost cool to the touch. 

“Dae,” his voice echoed off the the bathroom walls, making his voice seem louder than it actually was. He gathered Jongdae’s face in his hands, and did whatever he could to try and pry his eyes open. He needed Jongdae to look at him, acknowledge that he was there, “Come on, come on…”

A sudden burst of energy ran through Minseok, which he recognized as the serum releasing and returning a portion of his power back to him. He wasn’t confident that he could say the same for Jongdae.

Minseok dug deep inside his vast well of power and scrounged up every last shard of ice that loitered there and poured it into his hands. He placed a hand on the side of Jongdae’s face and placed the other on the back of his neck. 

He wiggled his fingers ever so often to keep his skin from sticking to Jongdae’s. Ten minutes passed, and Minseok lifted his hands from Jongdae’s skin after its temperature had dropped enough. He flipped the shower nozzle from cold to warm at the first sign of movement in Jongdae’s face and arms. Minseok also let the ice fall away from his hands when a shiver travelled up Jongdae’s spine. He gathered Jongdae in his arms and ran his hands up and down his arms as quickly as he could manage as the steam began to collect around them. It was all he could do to offer him the warm that his body craved.

“M–Min…” Jongdae’s voice was hoarse as he groaned against his skin.

Minseok tightened his grip around the younger’s shoulders, resting his chin atop his head, “I’m right here, Jongdae.”

Jongdae let a limp arm fall across Minseok’s lap. A hand curled around his hip, tugging him as close as he could get him. His shoulders shook as small sobs escaped his lips. 

Minseok wasn’t sure how long they sat there together like that, sitting in the scalding hot water until the steam around them became overbearing. 

He leaned his cheek up against Jongdae’s hair, “Are you warm enough?”

The sobs and shaking had ceased as Jongdae nodded against his chest. A whole new silence engulfed them as Minseok reached for the temperature controls and shut off the water. He helped Jongdae stand, and grabbed the nearest towel he could get his hands on.

“I left you some spare clothes on the counter,” Minseok wrapped the towel around Jongdae’s shoulders and ran his hands up and down his arms once more, “Get dressed and come climb into bed. Okay?”

Jongdae met Minseok’s eyes and nodded. 

Minseok excused himself to struggle with the clothes that had adhered to his body. It took more effort than he cared to admit to get them off, but a sense of relief flooded him as soon as they were off and replaced with simple lounging clothes, throwing the soaked clothes down the laundry chute. 

Minseok stopped at the foot of his bed and just stared. It had been nearly a week since he had slept in this bed, the very same one that Jongdae and Baekhyun had been putting to use. He swallowed his annoyance and forced himself under the silky sheets, the mattress relieving the pressure that he hadn’t even realized was being put on his spine. 

Jongdae climbed into bed not too long after changing into the loose black pants and white tee that Minseok had lent him. 

Minseok couldn’t help but think how beautiful Jongdae looked with his damp hair hanging in his face, but his eyes drooped with exhaustion. 

“Sleep, Jongdae,” Minseok’s voice travelled like an audible caress. 

Jongdae’s eyes glistened in the moonlight that travelled through the window, “Tell me it was dream, Minseok...that I’m going to wake up and everything is going to go back to the way things were. That Baek…”

A lump had formed in Jongdae’s throat, causing strides of tears to travel down the sides of Jongdae’s face. Minseok willed his hands to release just the slightest fraction of his power as he pressed his hand against the side of Jongdae’s face, “ _ Sleep _ . I’m begging you.” 

Minseok had never begged anyone for anything in his life, but for Jongdae he’d made the exception.

Jongdae lifted his hand to wrap his fingers around Minseok’s, and Minseok didn’t dare move that hand, didn’t even allow his muscles to feather, when Jongdae’s eyes fell shut against the horrors that he had partaken in during the sim. 

He waited until Jongdae’s breathing steadied and deepened to pull away his hand. He couldn’t help but notice the heavy dark circles that formed beneath Jongdae’s eyes from the excessive crying, and Minseok was convinced that he felt his heart crack at the sight. He pushed himself closer to Jongdae. His skin craved the contact, but he found the strength to keep himself a considerable distance away. Even then, the gesture would never be enough to erase what had happened. Baekhyun told Jongdae, and in a simulation of all places. A tinge of annoyance lingered in the back of his mind regarding the circumstances, but he pushed it away as soon as he noticed that Jongdae began to twitch in his sleep. 

A protective alertness engulfed his attention. He hesitantly stretched out his hand to wrap his fingers around Jongdae’s, and it took him by surprise when Jongdae’s fingers flinched at the gesture. 

Just as Minseok’s eyes began to get heavy with exhaustion, a sudden spout of tapping against the glass of his bedroom door rang throughout the room. As slowly and gently as he could, he removed his hand from Jongdae’s loose grip as he pushed the blankets back and stood to follow the source of the noise.

He stopped just short of the door when he saw Baekhyun’s face close to the glass. Even in the dark, he could see how his face had swelled with a bright redness. His eyes were so bloodshot that he couldn’t even make out any of the white that was supposed to be there, but it served for a striking contrast against his seemingly lifeless brown eyes. Now they appeared to have been set aflame, glowing intensely like a golden halo.

Minseok sighed as he pulled the handle to crack open the door, only enough for sound to travel between the two of them, his voice low to keep from waking Jongdae, “What do you want?”

Baekhyun let a shaky breath pass through his lips, “Can I see him?”

Minseok couldn’t even believe that Baekhyun had the guts to bring himself here at this time of night after such traumatic news had been brought to the surface. His fingers tightened around the door handle until his knuckles were stark white, “Leave, Baekhyun.”

“But I—”

“No,” Minseok insisted, “He’s finally asleep and I have no intention of waking him anytime soon, and if you care at all, the feeling should be mutual.”

Baekhyun slumped against the glass, his breath creating a fog against its surface, “Can you just...can you please tell him that I need to talk to him when he wakes up?”

“He’ll come to you when he’s ready.”

“Minseok…”

“ _ He’ll come to you when he’s ready _ ,” Minseok gritted through his teeth. 

Baekhyun sighed, a tear rolling from the corner of his eye. 

Minseok cleared his throat, “Oh, and while you’re up and ahead, you should look for other sleeping arrangements.”

A look of confusion twisted on Baekhyun’s face.

“ _ Permanent _ sleeping arrangements,” Minseok emphasized, “As far as I’m aware, it seems that Sehun and Chanyeol have a spare couch that they might be willing to lend you.”

Baekhyun’s lips wobbled, “Minseok,  _ please _ —”

“Goodnight, Baekhyun.”

Minseok pushed the door closed and hit the locking mechanism. He knew Kyungsoo most likely would be staying somewhere else for the night, if he wasn’t drowning himself in a pile of mindless work. 

When he turned to make his way back to the bed, he noticed that Jongdae had been sitting up and staring in his general direction.

_ Fuck _ .

“It was real…” Jongdae’s voice cracked, “Wasn’t it, Min?”

Minseok’s breath caught in his throat as the younger turned his head to reveal the pained and broken expression on his face.

“So this is it…” Jongdae elaborated, “This is what it took for you to even  _ stand _ being alone in the same room together.”

“Jongdae…”

“And I can’t even bring myself to be even remotely upset about it,” Jongdae admitted, sighing a heavy sigh. 

Minseok made his way back over to the bed, settling himself in an open spot next to Jongdae. 

“I was a coward,” Minseok whispered, “and selfish, and...I’m sorry.”

Jongdae’s eyes immediately lifted to his. 

Minseok cleared his throat, “That day in the elevator...I knew what I had done was wrong, regardless of how it felt— _ what _ I felt—and it doesn’t excuse the behavior that I have exhibited to you and everyone else ever since it happened. I was inflicting the internal conflict that I had been fighting against onto everyone else and I want to do whatever I can  _ now  _ to remedy all of the falsities or anything that might have been remotely misleading, especially to you. It must seem that my endless stream of apologies may mean absolutely nothing at this point, as I have apologized to you various times for very similar reasons, and I told you I wouldn’t make you any promises—”

“Stop,” Jongdae interjected.

Minseok flinched at the suddenness of Jongdae’s voice cutting through the room.

“I,” Jongdae sighed, “I don’t want any promises, Minseok. You don’t need to assure me that you care. Today alone was proof of that. But...I’m tired of this, Minseok.  _ Really  _ tired of—everything. Everyone. Yixing once told me that I can’t possibly save everyone, but I was convinced that I could, and now I’m starting to think that he was right. I thought I could save you, that if I just waited long enough and was patient enough, that I could discover who you really are underneath all of the high-and-mighty bullshit. I’ve been patient,  _ forgiving _ , even when I shouldn’t have been. It takes more than a handful of fleeting selfless acts and an unbound book of apologies to gain someone’s trust. Yet, it can also take a few simple words to shatter a very similar trust that has been built on the foundation of mutual understanding...brotherhood... _ love _ . It seems that there is no middle ground, is there?

“So, you’re right, Kim Minseok. You are a coward, and you are selfish. You hide behind a facade that was meticulously sculpted by your past and the looming future that reserves no guarantees for anyone. You keep yourself confined in a doorless room to protect those you care about most from yourself, because there is an undiluted fear instilled in you that stems from a chain of events that resulted in your closest friend’s death all of those years ago. Events that you had absolutely no control over. You cannot go through life thinking that you play it like a simulation, Minseok. Life is not just going to...recommence or give you another opportunity. Simulations are faux realities for a reason, completely liquidated of all things that are reasonable; situations and scenarios that tap into your worst fears to mold you into someone you’re not, and that’s how he controls you, keeps you from escaping this place. Yet, you can’t even do yourself the favor of being honest with yourself. You’re afraid, cowering in fear behind a mask of a person that you crafted to keep everyone at a distance. I guess it’s now a question of who you are scared of more: the Captain or yourself.”

Jongdae’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he wiped his face with the heel of his palm, “You were supposed to be someone I could trust in Minseok...someone I  _ want  _ to trust in. I can’t play this game with you anymore, despite whatever magnetic pull that keeps dragging me to you against my own better judgement. I gave you a choice—either embrace me in that frozen heart of yours...or push me off of the plank into your endless sea of regrets before I jump off myself. So, I’m going to make the decision for you by jumping…”

Minseok felt like his heart was going to explode as Jongdae continued to wipe tears from his face.

“Because I can’t do this with you anymore. The aches and pains that I feel because of the events that happened today are not synonymous with the pain that you have made me feel. The disappointment that I felt every time I got my hopes up, just to be let down, over and over again—it can drive a person insane, Minseok. With you, it’s like getting onto a ship that is bombarded by a never ending turbulence. The minute I start to believe that the aircraft is going to steady itself and find some relief at last, a stronger wave than the last hits.”

Minseok stood from the mattress. He felt like he had been pushed overboard himself, as if Jongdae has commedered his ship and pushed him into open space instead. 

He had no right to be angry. He was right, and Minseok knew there was nothing he could do to refute it, because it was the undeniable truth. There were no words to describe how Minseok felt, but it was nothing in comparison to what Jongdae had struggled against. 

Minseok sighed as he pushed his hands into his pockets, “Goodnight, Jongdae.”

Jongdae looked like he had been slapped across the face as Minseok turned to walk across the room towards the door, “So...that’s it? You’re not going to say  _ anything _ ?”

Minseok paused to stand in the middle of the room, judging the distance between the two of them, “What would the use of that be, Jongdae? I cannot apologize...we both know now that isn’t going to be enough. At this point, apologies and promises are meaningless, you’ve made that clear enough. It seems that you don’t want  _ anything _ ...at least from me. So, I’m going to do what I do best and put the space that you desire between us. Regardless of whatever I feel...whatever you feel...there’s always something putting a rift between us. I will respect your decision in jumping, Kim Jongdae. At least you weren’t afraid to do it.”

Jongdae stood from the bed, daring to take several steps towards a great unknown, “The problem isn’t that I don’t want anything. It’s that I want too much.”


	36. CHAPTER 36: JONGDAE & MINSEOK

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Minseok, thank you for keeping your promise...thank you for finding me again. From now on, take care of him." — Luhan, Chapter 24

“Take it back.”

“I can’t.”

“How am I supposed to leave you alone when you say things like that? Why are you making this much more complicated than it already is?”

“I’m not the one who is making things complicated.”

“Well,  _ you  _ are the reason why things have become complicated.”

“Enlighten me.”

“I know you’re not an idiot, Jongdae.”

“Then say it.”

_ Promise me that you’ll find me again. _

“It doesn’t matter now.”

_ You found me. In this body, in this person. _

“Say it.”

_ I love you. _

_ I love you. _

_ I love you. _

“I love you.”


	37. CHAPTER 37: JONGDAE

_ I love you _ .

_ I belong to ACE _ .

Jongdae could find no salvation in sleep. Every time he tried to close his eyes he’d hear Minseok’s voice—see Baekhyun’s face. 

He had never felt so overwhelmed in his entire life.

Jongdae folded his fingers around the tablet that he had found in Minseok’s desk nearly an hour prior. It seemed that of all the significant people who should have known about the situation, he was the last to find out. Baekhyun had lied to him, and had him played for a complete fool. Not only that, but Minseok had known. Jongdae couldn’t say for how long he knew exactly, but he knew. He was impressed by Minseok’s ability to shield the truth for such a long period of time, and as upset as he was, he couldn’t bring himself to be angry with the leader. If the circumstances had been different, he would have made the same decision. 

If Minseok would have been the first to tell him, he would have been even more upset. It wasn’t until now that he realized that the words always needed to come from Baekhyun. 

His heart twisted at the thought of Baekhyun’s horror-stricken face when those faceless soldiers snapped his neck. He had nearly forgotten how hyperrealistic the simulations were, and Baekhyun would live with the ear-splitting crack of bones that would haunt his dreams for an eternity. It was a mercy that humans couldn’t live that long, not in this universe anyways.

Jongdae stared at the tablet until his vision was driven out of focus; he’d blink several times until the words would resurface with lesser clarity.

_ Operation: ElyXiOn. _

He thought that if he stared at it long enough the words would fall away into nothing, hoped that it was nothing more than a mirage attempting to manipulate the weak state of his mind and heart. Yet, nothing could prepare Jongdae for the disappointment he felt as the words became much clearer and sharper with each passing moment.

The words felt like a taunt; a test designed to measure what was supposed to be his everlasting trust in Baekhyun, and yet he could feel himself falling short.

_ ElyXiOn. _

It was a word Jongdae had never encountered before, but its staggering familiarity made him feel restless. 

_ Elysium.  _

Amidst the archives that Rogue had been given unhinged access to by Alpha, Jongdae had discovered the importance of a realm that the people for this time called Elysium. A paradise where cherished and bereaved heroes would be celebrated; a special afterlife reserved specifically for them. Jongdae couldn’t help but laugh at the irony. However, his desire to know who  _ exactly _ was reserved a space in this predestined afterlife grew tremendously: Baekhyun, or the remaining Rogue members? 

The more Jongdae pondered the issue, the more he started to realized that the mission had never been about them. It had never been about Jongin. Yixing. Himself.  _ Rogue _ . It had and always would be about Baekhyun. To escape the horrors of this reality to reach Elysium would mean taking the appropriate measures to guarantee a spot there, and if Baekhyun or the Captain considered disposing of a small unit of now-former space pirates, then it sure felt like a rather unorthodox and paradoxical means of doing so. 

The image of Baekhyun’s panicked expression from the simulation flickered in his mind. He considered the sympathy and empathy that Baekhyun had seemingly developed for them—for him—and no matter how many times he turned over the issue in his mind, he couldn’t bring himself to understand how Baekhyun could still be in the process of dragging out the ElyXiOn mission. 

It was moments like these that he wished talking to Minseok was a much easier task, and now that his confession lingered in the air between them like a thin fog, he knew it wasn’t the time for them to talk. Not when the person he wanted to talk to was part of the reason as to why his judgement was so clouded. 

Jongdae sprawled his limbs across the large expanse of Minseok’s bed. He rubbed his tired eyes that begged for even the slightest breath of mercy, but his wandering thoughts were vicious and cruel. Thanks to them, sleeping felt torturous. Yet, sleep deprivation acted as the opposing side of the very same coin. His options were black and white, and neither of them were desirous by any means. Sleeping meant opening his mind’s eye to a dreamscape that would do nothing but bury him further in the fabrications that had been intricately sewn to lure him to his death. It meant hearing the sweet nothings that he had been wanting to coax out of Minseok for weeks now, only to wake up with a heart consumed by the guilt he felt for betraying Baekhyun’s feelings—his own feelings. Regardless of the terrible things that he may have planned to do to them. He supposed that none of that mattered now, or at least it shouldn’t; nonetheless, his heart cried the tears that his body could no longer produce. The way his heart throbbed and burned was indescribable, he was sure there were no words in either this universe, or the universe that preceded their own, to dictate the sort of sadness and betrayal that swallowed him whole. 

He turned his head to gazed beyond the glass of the window. He thought about the fragility of the stars that looked deceptively close, but were millions of light years away from him. They glowed so magnificently amidst the darkness that threatened to envelop them. If it weren’t for the vast shadows that made up nearly the entire universe, those very stars would be nothing. Even though it was a permanent umbra that would bombard those stars from all sides, they relied on that darkness in order to shine.

He could feel his eyelids getting heavy, and no matter how hard he fought against the sweet song of sleep, those distant stars began to blur with each arduous blink. The sound of the sliding door echoed throughout the room, and he wasn’t entirely sure if it was a distant clamor of the dream that called to him, or if it was a residual noise of the reality which he was quickly losing his grip on. 

A silhouette formed around the edges of Jongdae’s foggy vision, and he had no energy to pursue the interest that simmered in his mind as to who it was. He knew if he waited just a moment longer, his questions would answer themselves. 

He was vaguely aware of that very someone pulling the blankets up to his chest, thawing the goosebumps that had formed along this arms. A hand ran over the plains of his rich dark hair, massaging the scalp as the host’s slim fingers reached the roots. 

“Sleep, Jongdae.”

The coolness of the lips that pressed against his forehead was clue enough. 

He didn’t have the strength to hold onto the elder. He wished he could go back several hours and take back everything he had said, no matter how aggressive the truth was. While he was not regretful for finally standing up to protect his own heart, Jongdae couldn’t help but feel emptier now that he had acted on his threat to separate himself from Minseok. He thought of Luhan, and the pain that Minseok surely felt after he had been killed, how lonely he must have been. The image of Luhan being impaled by the arrow that Minseok had been equipped with depicted just how deep the well of Minseok’s guilt ran; he was someone who shouldered the burden that came with Luhan’s tragic untimely death. Alone. It seemed only poetic that Minseok’s greatest skill was also his tragic flaw—to push people away in order to protect them; therefore, enticing the curiosity and concern that draws those very people in by doing so. 

Minseok’s voice grazed the walls of Jongdae’s overflowing thoughts.

_ I love you. _

Jongdae knew it was the truth, no matter how much he didn’t want to admit it aloud. He would not yield, no matter how much he wanted to embrace those words for what they were, for what they meant. Yet, his desperate craving for the icy touch of Minseok’s fingers against his skin, even in the height of winter, was surging. As long as Minseok was there to drive away the night terrors that threatened to deprive him of his honest desires, waking up in the cold would be worth it.

He was diving too deep into the bottomless abyss that was Kim Minseok, and he was so far down that he wasn’t sure if there was going to be anyway for him to return to the surface. 

The mattress sank as the ACE leader ran light circles around the exposed skin of his temples, drowning in the refreshing icy touch. Yet, before Jongdae could reach out to keep Minseok from leaving him behind to suffer in the sea of Baekhyun’s lies and deception, he was swallowed whole by the sleep he had been evading for so long. 


	38. CHAPTER 38: TEAM EX'ACT

Jongdae woke up in a daze.

The room was still dark thanks to whoever took the time to pull down the shades that would block the blinding sunlight from streaming into the room. 

His vision was still blurred as he reached out across the cool, silky sheets, but was met with disappointment to find the spot cold— _ empty _ . 

Perhaps it had all been a dream, but he could have sworn that Minseok had come to him in the middle of the night, and as if it were like magic, soaked up the last of his worries that prevented him from sleeping. It certainly wasn’t the best night’s sleep he had ever had, but it was better than nothing. 

The familiar incessant sound of Minseok and Kyungsoo’s clacking of their keyboards, just as early as every morning, drove Jongdae to sit up and face the day for what it was. The dread and anxiety was already starting to settle deep in his stomach as he rubbed his eyes in an effort to force them to focus. When his eyes finally adjusted to the dim light around him, he noticed Jongin and Chanyeol sitting with Sehun at the kitchen table forking whatever breakfast they had made into their mouths, all the while studying and making revisions to a stack of blueprints. They talked lowly with their mouths full, forks and spoons clinking against the glass plates every few seconds. 

A sigh of relief ripped from his throat when he realized that Baekhyun was nowhere to be seen. He still wasn’t sure what he’d do, what he’d say, if he had to come face to face with him this early in the morning. If he was being honest with himself, he was scared. A pathological liar had strung a web of lies so intricate and enchanting that it actually managed to captivate his heart. Who knew how much of what Baekhyun had told him was the truth and how much of it was just nonsense designed to ensnare him like the prey that he was.

Jongdae forced the thoughts to the back of his mind as he literally stumbled out of bed. He had lost his footing when his eyes fell upon Minseok, who was so deep into his work that the objects rattling on his desk didn’t even phase him. It couldn’t have been longer than several hours since he last saw the ACE leader, and in the short lapse of time Minseok had somehow managed to reemerge without his raven black hair. He wouldn’t describe his hair as wholly blonde, but he couldn’t say that it was brown either. It was a inharmonious combination of the two that leaned in favor of the former. His hair had been slicked back enough to reveal the trimmed sides of his undercut that had been curtained by his toplength. 

Minseok looked frighteningly impressive in his choice of black turtleneck that worked so well with his newfound hair color. Seeing him work so diligently sent a chill down Jongdae’s spine as the leader remained oblivious to his roaming eyes. He was like a magnet, and Jongdae could sense the pull that lingered deep in his soul that made his blood simmer with curiosity. He forced himself to come to his senses before he got too close to the desk, and made a sharp turn in the direction of where Junmyeon was scrolling through a tablet on the sofas. 

“What’s going on?” Jongdae inquired, “Everyone seems rather busy for first thing in the morning.”

Junmyeon tore his eyes away from the tablet and nodded towards the cushion directly adjacent to him; a silent invitation for Jongdae to sit beside him. He settled himself down on the couch as Junmyeon pulled the tablet to his chest, “With the news of Baekhyun’s pre-existing position here at ACE, Minseok and I have been trying to decide how to handle to issue. Considering that Baekhyun already has his own prescribed orders from the Captain, we felt it would be a conflict of interest to keep him within the ranks of EX’ACT. I’ve spent the greater majority of my morning drafting a proposal to the Captain for his removal.”

Jongdae felt conflicted by the news, and perhaps it was because the truth of Baekhyun’s identity hadn’t fully settled yet, but he could feel a sense of discomfort growing at the possibility of him being removed from the team. 

“Nothing bad would happen to him, you understand that right?” Junmyeon placed his hand on Jongdae’s arm in a gesture of comfort, “The Captain clearly sees him as a valuable asset to the organization, if he didn’t, Baekhyun would have been replaced with someone else a long time ago.”

That might have frightened him even more than the fact that Baekhyun had lied through his teeth for at least five years of their time together. It meant that Baekhyun had been so thoroughly conditioned by the organization that his web of lies became  _ that _ much more intricate. 

Jongdae peered across the room where Minseok was running a hand through his fresh blonde hair, and he could help but think that  _ this _ was the reason why everyone called him the Ice Prince. He was tragically handsome with his icy blonde hair, even the news regarding Baekhyun wasn’t enough to keep his attention drawn from him. 

“If you’re wondering about Minseok’s hair,” Junmyeon bumped Jongdae’s shoulder, “well...it doesn’t happen often, but when it does, it usually means that some sort of big change is coming.”

“A big change?”

Junmyeon nodded, “Minseok does everything with a purpose, much like the Captain, except Minseok is a lot more methodical and thoughtful in the choices he makes. And in the many years that I’ve known him, he’s only changed his hair a handful of times, unlike Sehun who can never make up his mind about whether he wants to have light or dark hair.”

They both chuckled at this as Sehun sank down onto the couch across from them, “I should be able to experiment with my hair all I want, I’m not getting any younger.”

Junmyeon rolled his eyes and placed his tablet face down onto his lap, “The only other reasonable suspicion that I could possibly have is that Minseok might be going undercover.”

Jongdae felt like the wind had been knocked out of him, “Undercover...why?”

Junmyeon folded his arms across his chest, “The Captain trusts Minseok’s judgement even more than some of our superiors, and he won’t hesitate to dispatch him wherever he needs Minseok to be. This also means that he can be shipped off  _ whenever _ the Captain may have use for him. Since Minseok’s military background is infinitely expansive, he’s the perfect candidate for undercover missions.”

Sehun draped his legs on the coffee table, “The undercover missions are the worst.”

Jongdae shot Sehun a questioning look.

Sehun sighed as he scratched the back of his neck, “Whenever Minseok is sent under, there’s no telling when he’s going to leave, where he’s going, who he’s going with, if anyone else goes with him at all, or when he’s coming back. They are the  _ most  _ classified missions that can be assigned to agents like us. But, since Minseok is in the Captain’s good graces, the duties and tasks that are expected of him stretch far beyond the description of his job title.”

“He was gone for a full year once,” Chanyeol included as he sat down next to Sehun. “Every single day was a constant struggle—worrying about whether he was okay, or if he was ever going to come back. It was even more haunting and horrific than fear itself. It was a  _ long  _ year for all of us.”

Jongdae’s eyes roamed back to Minseok. His background was so clear, yet so clouded all at once. Each time he thought he had Minseok figured out, new information would roll in and slash down whatever conclusion he had reached. 

Minseok’s eyes flickered from the screen and met Jongdae’s. Neither of them made a move to look away, let alone blink. It felt like the world around them was falling away, and if there hadn’t been other people sitting around, Jongdae knew that nothing could have stopped him from running into Minseok’s embrace. They needed to talk, especially now that he had slept off the emotions that had manipulated all valuable forms of reason just half a day prior. 

There was a longing that ran between them, one that he could see in Minseok’s eyes.

_ I love you.  _

Jongdae needed to know just how far the well of that statement ran. 

He hadn’t even realized that he had gotten lost in his own internal landscape until the room had gone utterly silent. When he finally found his grip on reality, Minseok was standing directly in front of him. 

Jongdae tilted his head to meet Minseok’s stare and was vaguely aware of Chanyeol and Sehun getting up from the couch across from them, slowly making their way back over to where Jongin was still sitting at the table. 

Minseok extended his hand, a silent invitation that he had been waiting for since he laid his eyes on the blonde hair. He opted to stand from the couch without Minseok’s help as the two of them refrained from breaking eye contact. 

He let Minseok lead them out of the bedroom and into the hallway, locking the airtight seal of the door securely before opening his mouth to speak. 

Minseok sighed a shaky breath, “There were some things said yesterday that I shouldn’t have been said—”

Jongdae lifted his hand, which caught Minseok mid-sentence, “Did—did you come back last night?”

Confusion flooded Minseok as his eyes drifted from his for the briefest of moments, “Yesterday was a long day, and I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay. I wasn’t going to be able to sleep if I didn’t check up on you.”

He felt his heart flare at the declaration. It wasn’t a dream. Minseok had come back for him. 

“Not only did you face several startling truths, but your lightning was eating at you from the inside out. I just wanted to make sure that you were stable.”

Jongdae rested his back against the wall, hoping that it would give his legs the support they needed to prevent them from giving out completely. The influx of information, and the irreconcilable amount of time he had spent overthinking everything from just the last day alone, was enough to flood a small moon. He was embarrassed that he couldn’t even manage to keep himself away from Minseok for even half of a day before his curiosity got the better of him. He needed answers, and putting distance between him and the leader wasn’t going to yield any of the answers that he sought. 

“Is it true?” Jongdae wondered aloud, “Is it possible that you’re going to be leaving?”

Minseok’s brow twitched, “Where did you get that idea?”

Jongdae ran a hand through his hair, gathering a large fistful of it, instantly regretting his decision in asking.

Minseok chuckled, a wide smile lingered on his face for a while before asking, “Are you referring to my hair?”

Jongdae blushed, “Junmyeon said—”

“ _ Junmyeon _ ...” Minseok interjected, “Thinks that he knows everything he needs to know about me, which I do believe he does considering that it is his job, but sometimes even his own judgment can falter.”

“So, it’s not true...you will be staying.”

The leader cleared his throat, “It’s no different than the last time I was assigned to leave here with Yixing. If the Captain prescribes me any further orders that might conflict with my current set, then I shall go. If he does not, then I will continue to carry out the duties here. It’s as simple as that.”

“It’s not that simple and you know it,” Jongdae spat back. “If you go undercover…”

“ _ If  _ I go undercover, then it would be none of your concern.”

Jongdae couldn’t help but stare. He could feel the overwhelming disbelief stirring and rumbling in his stomach. He shouldn’t care; he was supposed to keep his distance. He had told himself time and time again that being by Kim Minseok’s side wasn’t going to reap any rewards. He felt embarrassed for repeatedly running into the arms of the enemy, despite the tireless list of implicit promises that he had made to Minseok regarding their fragile friendship, because he was the one who was running back each and every time. He could never manage to stay away long enough to wait to see if Minseok would actually follow up on his threats. There had to be reason, and Jongdae wasn’t going to let Minseok leave until he discovered what the reason was.

~

Minseok stood just beyond the doors of the Captain’s quarters.

He had been summoned by a runner who carried a black envelope. No one, not even the ACE members, knew of its meaning. 

It was never uncommon for him to receive these message-less envelopes. Whenever matters were serious, he would receive one, and only Minseok would know the nature of the Captain’s intent based on an imprint that was left in the left-hand corner. 

For there to be a seeing eyeglass was rare for Minseok now that he had been the leader of a team; as an assassin, to find the eyeglass there at the corner of the thick paper was like reuniting with a dear friend. 

He held that envelope in between his fingers as the doors slid open. Minseok did not hesitate as he pushed further into the office space, taking a seat at the chair that sat directly in front of the Captain’s desk. 

“And to what do I owe the special privilege of being sent under for the first time in a very long time?” Minseok inquired. 

“The Royals of Traygan.”

Minseok frowned, “What of them? I know the Venusian royals like to fuck and waste their money, but what have they =done this time that is different from the other times you sent me into their play pen?” 

Minseok leaned back in the chair and added, “I’ve attempted to kill them on your behalf a handful of times, and each time you asked me to pull back...so will I be getting my hands wet this time?”

The Captain chuckled and folded his hands on the desk. There was a wicked glimmer in his eyes, “We’ve known each other a long time, Kim Minseok, and in that time...how many men have you been with?”

It was no surprise to Minseok that the Captain had known about his preference towards men, and it still hadn’t been a surprise when the Captain confronted him about it nearly eight years prior, just after Luhan’s death. The people of this system were free from stigmatization to love and fuck whoever they pleased—whether it is a man or woman. 

“You talk as if you already don’t know the answer,” Minseok crossed his legs. 

A wide smirk flared on the Captain’s face as he tapped his fingers against the glass desk, “I’m sending you to the Traygan’s palace once more, my old friend.”

Minseok’s brows furrowed in confusion, “It’s not like you to make friendly small talk, sir. Whatever you have to say, just say it.” 

The smug smile never left the Captain’s face, not once, “I have a proposal for you, Kim Minseok.” 

“It’s not a proposal if I don’t have a say, sir.”

“You’ve always been a smart man,” the Captain praised, “Smarter than some of my most seasoned officers.”

Minseok dipped his head briefly to accept the compliment.

“And it’ll be difficult for me to watch you leave like this.”

His heart winced and began to race as fast as a horse could run, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“The Wu’s of Traygan Palace in the Venusian capital are looking to secure their son’s, Prince Yifan, spot on the Venusian throne. You are very much aware that there has been a lot of strain and resistance from their family in bending to our cause. They are prepared to meet us halfway to begin negotiations as long as their son is guaranteed that position, which I have promised to retain...as long as we have a chance to share that power.”

Minseok thought his heart was going to explode. His mind raced in each and every direction, but at the end of each path was the only thing that worried him the most. 

Jongdae.

“And I always keep my promises,” a devilish grin reached the Captain’s eyes, “I have arranged for you and the prince to be married.”

It felt like Minseok had been struck across the face. His eyes stung as the complacent look on the Captain’s face began to settle into deadly satisfaction. 

“Sir, please—”

“Please,  _ what _ , Minseok?”

“I will go there to negotiate the terms,” Minseok shifted in his seat, “I will serve as envoy, but I can’t marry him.”

The Captain leaned back in his seat, studying Minseok for a long moment, “And why is that?”

_ What would happen to EX’ACT? What would they think? _

These were the questions that he wanted to ask aloud, but he knew they were nothing more than a cover up for the real question that lingered in the pit of his stomach.

_ What would Jongdae think? _

He wanted to launch himself from the room, wished that he could turn back time and stop himself from coming to this meeting. 

He had arrived just beyond the point of no return.

“I am EX’ACT’s leader,” Minseok stated plainly, “A  _ permanent  _ position which you assigned to me—”

“One that I can strip away.”

“—you said yourself that I am your best man. I mean no disrespect, sir, and I do not mean to overstep my boundaries by any means, but you are going to give away such a valuable asset to this organization?” 

“I am  _ extending  _ my valuable asset,” the Captain raised his voice. “Sitting on a Traygan throne will open up doorways to resources and finances that we currently lack. We need their support, and from that throne you will get to make decisions on ACE’s behalf. If anything, you are becoming even  _ more  _ valuable by doing as I say. You  _ will _ marry the Wu boy. And if it makes you more comfortable, you can use the term envoy instead.”

“That title is a long ways from husband,” Minseok shot back.

The Captain snickered, “Just think...you’ll have a pretty boy to fuck every morning when you wake up.”

“You are referring to a  _ prince _ , sir,” Minseok reminded, “There’s no need to inadvertently disrespect the family. As you said, you need their support, which means you need mine, as well.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Interpret it how you will,” Minseok stood from his seat, “When do I leave?”

The Captain didn’t even bother to stand as he reached into his desk and tossed Minseok a gold and forest green operation card. 

The royal colors of the Traygan throne. How appropriate. 

“Tonight.” 


	39. CHAPTER 39: MINSEOK & JONGDAE

Minseok couldn’t help but think that EX’ACT needed an office space now that there were nine of them as he returned to his bedroom.

He wasn’t necessarily surprised to see all  _ eight  _ remaining EX’ACT operatives sitting around the large living space. What did surprise him, however, was Baekhyun, who had found a spot at the dining table with a very serious looking Junmyeon and Chanyeol. 

Minseok made b-line for his own desk to begin his pre-mission evaluation and review the details of the mission card. The card felt heavy in his breast pocket as he closed in on his desk, taking a seat in the rolling chair and powering on the computer. He scanned the room around him to make sure that no one was making their way over before pulling the card for its place in his jacket. 

The operation card was one of the most beautiful he had ever seen in his time working for the Captain. Whoever had designed it had even engraved the card with very organic floral patterns. Minseok feared placing it into the computer for the sake of it getting scratched, but he swallowed that childish apprehensiveness and placed the chip into the card reader. 

As he waited for the contents of the card to load, he made direct contact with Junmyeon from across the room. One look was all it took for Junmyeon to understand that he was leaving. He offered a curt nod in acknowledgement of the news. But Minseok was more curious about Baekhyun, as his eyes flitted to the Rogue and back in question. Junmyeon excused himself from the table and quickly strode over to the desk, placing his tablet and stylus onto the glass. 

“Pull up a chair, Junmyeon,” Minseok proposed. And he did. 

Minseok cleared his throat as Junmyeon dragged the chair next to his own, “So what’s the update on... _ that _ whole situation?”

Junmyeon settled down into the chair until he was comfortable, “I’ve finished drafting the proposal for removal, but there’s no guarantee that the Captain is going to pass it.”

“There are no guarantees in this organization...ever,” Minseok spoke absentmindedly, “What were you three talking about?” 

“Naturally, Chanyeol had a vast arsenal of questions for Baekhyun. They had already been talking when I stopped by after finishing the proposal.”

“What kind of questions?”

Junmyeon folded his arms across his lap, “A lot to do with Baekhyun’s introduction to ACE, what sort of work he had been doing for the Captain and for how long, and many other questions related to the subject.”

Much to his discontent, Minseok hummed a noise of acknowledgement.

“If he’s telling the truth, it seems this was his introductory mission. An unfortunate way to enter the organization, if you ask me,” Junmyeon stretched his neck, eyeing Chanyeol and Baekhyun at the table.

Minseok sighed, “No person’s induction into ACE is ever a positive one, Jun. You and I know that better than anyone.” 

They sat in silence for a moment before Junmyeon pushed his chair closer to his, “So it’s true. You’re leaving.”

Minseok crinkled his brows in an attempt to feign confusion.

“Don’t try to lie,” Junmyeon warned, “I saw you pull the card from your pocket.”

Minseok silently cursed himself, but he could never get anything past Junmyeon even if he tried hard enough. He just offered a silent nod in the place of a verbal response. 

“When.”

His voice sounded tight as the words passed through his lips, “Tonight.”

Even in his peripheral vision, Minseok noticed the way his second in command flinched at the news.

“And it’s genuinely undercover?”

The frustration in his voice couldn’t have been more obvious, “Even if it was, you know I’m not allowed to discuss it.”

Junmyeon dropped the conversation all together as he stood, giving Minseok’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. Junmyeon could write some of the greatest reports known the human race, and could give some of the best pep talks prior to a daunting mission. Yet, not even he could find the right words to help put a damper on the dread and fear that was generally associated undercover missions. 

As he watched Junmyeon stalk back towards the others, Minseok’s eyes landed on Jongdae, who was completely consumed by whatever conversation he was having with Yixing and Jongin. By the looks of things, it didn’t seem to be the sort of conversation that wouldn’t allow them to rest easy. The rims of Jongdae’s eyes were beat red, and it pained Minseok knowing there was nothing he could do to console him. He couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be for them to even be in the same room at Baekhyun. Minseok was completely dumbfounded by the amount of courage and pride that Baekhyun mustered to bring himself here just as he had the other night. 

Minseok turned back to his desktop to review the operation details, which couldn’t have been any vaguer than they already were. He had completed many missions where he was asked to gather intel on ACE foes and political obstacles, but this assignment was different. They were royals. A family of individuals who had more security to guard one room than ACE had in its entirety. Their methods of tracking were a lot more advanced and complex than Minseok could ever bring himself to understand. He knew this would make it difficult to get a simple message out to...anyone. He wanted to consult Jongdae for any advice he could get, but asking too many irrelevant questions would spark suspicion that he wasn’t ready to confront. From here on out, he would have to think quick and be swift on his feet. 

He collapsed against the back of his chair while rubbing away the ache that settled in his temples. 

There were approximately three hours until nightfall, and several more hours until all of the EX’ACT members would find themselves in their respective rooms. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t ever snuck out of the room in the middle of the night before, it wasn’t hard. What  _ was _ hard was leaving behind the few people he genuinely cared for, regardless of how long it took for him to warm up to them, not knowing when or if he was ever going to see them again. A strong stabbing pain always formed in his stomach when he imagined the look on Sehun’s face when he’d finally realize that he left without saying goodbye. 

Minseok pulled the operation card from the dock and shoved it back into his inner breast pocket. When he looked up, he locked eyes with the source of the new ache in his heart. Jongdae peered at him with those rosy swollen eyes, and Minseok nearly confessed the Captain’s plans for him right then and there. 

For once in his lonely life, Minseok wanted someone to save  _ him _ . He had spent the great majority of his young adult life scheming and killing, sparing the low lifes he had been assigned to dispose of the mercy of a quick painless death. But it came at a cost other than their lives. He remembered the face of every man he had ever did away with, and there wasn’t a single night where Minseok didn’t see their faces in the depths of his harrowing dreams. He was tired of it all: the scheming, the killing, the sleepless nights. He just wanted some peace in his life, even if it was for the briefest of moments, and marrying Prince Yifan was just going to further add to the guilt that weighed on his conscience. And he hopelessly and desperately wanted Jongdae to be his salvation.

~

JONGDAE & MINSEOK

Jongdae decided that he wanted to put his tiff with Minseok as far behind them as he could. He was tired of them playing cat and mouse with one another, and never knowing which role either of them were assuming. The world around him was so gray, and his senses to everything were so heavy and numb, that he couldn’t care less about how they both found themselves in the same bed, just as they had been prior to Rogue’s arrival. 

“Make me forget, Min.”

Jongdae’s eyes had been in a permanent state of swollenness, puffy and red from a mixture of lack of sleep and the silent sobs that he tried to keep Minseok from hearing. The truth was that Minseok couldn’t sleep knowing that Jongdae was still lying awake, contemplating and slaving away at what Baekhyun had revealed to him. He had never seen a person toss and turn so much in his life, and his heart throbbed for him. He wanted nothing more than to gather the younger in his arms and push all of those terrors from his mind, because if he himself was overly exhausted, he couldn’t imagine how Jongdae was feeling. He wanted to stretch his hands across the vast length of the silk sheets and truly make him forget, to take them back to a time where they all had been blind to Baekhyun’s identity, but he couldn’t. 

“Dae...Jongdae…” Minseok hesitated as he reached for Jongdae’s already stretched out hand and folded his fingers in between his. What Jongdae had been insinuating was everything he had been waiting to hear for  _ so _ long, and he was teetering on the edge of falling into him—doing everything and anything Jongdae wanted. And he would do anything for that man. He’d beg, he’d tease, he’d submit to those wicked hands if that’s what Jongdae desired. If only the circumstances had been different, “When I touch you, I want it to be because you want me to make you forget your name, forget who  _ you _ are. So that when everything’s over and I bring you back to me, it’ll be with a satisfied smile on your face. If we were to do this now, you’d regret it. You’d hate yourself even more because after everything’s done, you’ll still remember. You won’t forget and another regret will be added to your long collective list and I won't let you do that to yourself."

Jongdae gazed at him with so much longing that it looked like it hurt, and Minseok tried his hardest to swallow the desire that threatened to overwhelm him. He ran his thumb across the dry, cracked skin of Jongdae’s knuckles and gave his fingers the most subtle reassuring squeeze. Even though it was dark, he could see the small, weak smile that spread across Jongdae’s lips. He could have cried at the sight, it was the first smile he had seen on Jongdae’s face since the truth had surfaced, and he couldn’t help but think that it was progress. The kind of progress that would be slow in the making, but every little moment—even ones like this—mattered. 

He swallowed any and all hesitation as he pulled Jongdae into his arms and held him as close as he could possibly get him. Jongdae tucked himself under Minseok’s chin, and Jongdae wrapped his arms around his bare torso as he settled his head against the crook of his neck. Minseok could feel a whole new wave of temptation crash into him as Jongdae pushed one of his legs through his own. A shaky breath ripped from his throat as Jongdae’s fingers drew light circles at the base of the small of his back. Minseok drew back, but only enough for him to bring himself to Jongdae’s eye level. He lifted his free arm to put his hand atop Jongdae’s temples, stroking back the hair that hung there. He applied very little pressure as he massaged the warm skin with his thumb, mimicking the same pattern that Jongdae had been drawing on his back. He swore he could get lost in those eyes, and if losing himself in that gaze could grant him all of the answers he needed to fix everything in the most respectful manner possible, he’d do it willingly.

“I can't make you forget, Dae,” Minseok whispered, “But I can remind you that I’ll always be here for you. That I’ll always be by your side.”

He didn’t realize that Jongdae had been crying until a stray tear landed against the bare skin of his shoulder, and he could feel the concern contorting his features. 

“No more tears, Dae,” Minseok pressed his forehead against Jongdae’s, and after a few moments of adjusting his arms, he slipped both of his hands on either side of his neck. His brushed his lips against the corner of his eye to kiss away the line of tears, and when he pulled back to gaze at those beautiful eyes once more, he could feel his own tears gathering. And he did what he could to blink them away.

Jongdae sighed, using his hand to push Minseok’s against his cheek, leaning into the coolness of the touch. His skin was hot, boiling, and Minseok splayed his fingers just enough for his power to well into his fingers, “I’m sorry, Min...I can’t stop crying, and I know I must look pathetic—”

“Shhhhh,” Minseok cooed as he used his thumb to stroke the damp skin, “If being in love with someone so wholeheartedly is pathetic, Jongdae, then what does that make me? You love Baekhyun, I can see it in the way you breath, in the way you smile, in the way your eyes glitter when I think you’re about to cry. I see it in everything you do, everything you are. It’s okay for you to feel hurt, it’s okay for you to cry. And I’ll be here to be that shoulder to cry on if that’s what you need, but you are far from pathetic, Kim Jongdae. You are...you are nothing short of beautiful and utterly remarkable, and as long as I’m around, you can count on me to remind you that you are.”

And Jongdae had lost it. Whenever leash he had been keeping on himself, it had snapped clean in half. Silent sobs choked out of him, so silent that Minseok wasn’t even sure if Jongdae was even  capable of producing noise. It wasn’t until he’d finally catch his breath that the cries would get progressively louder, and Minseok lowered a hand to Jongdae’s waist to drag him closer into his arms, “You’re okay, Dae, I’ve got you.”

He cradled Jongdae in his arms until the shaking stopped. His lips wobbled slightly as he lightly pressed his lips against Jongdae’s forehead, his voice barely a whisper of wind brushing against skin, “I’ve got you.”

Jongdae peeled himself away. He scooted to the edge of the bed and then stood to go to the sink to wash his face, and even though they were still in the same room together, Minseok felt empty. The spot where Jongdae had been laying was covered in tears, damp and cold. He folded the covers back just enough for him to sit up as Jongdae was patting his face cry with a hand towel. They spotted one another across that short distance, and the way Jongdae slowly made his way over to Minseok’s side of the bed made him tremble.

It took him by surprise when Jongdae sat down on his lap, wrapping those long, slender arms around his neck. 

“Jongdae,” Minseok warned. 

“I know, Min,” Jongdae whispered as he lifted a hand to caress his neck, “Thank you...for...for sticking by me, and for wanting to be by my side. I know I’ve spent the last several days doing everything to push everyone away, especially you. God... _ especially _ you.”

Minseok place a hand on Jongdae’s hip and he didn’t so much as even flinch at the touch, “I’ve spent too much time pushing you away, Jongdae, and for some of the most selfish and selfless reasons I can think of. We all need someone...and even if that person wasn’t supposed to be me, I wanted it to be.”

Jongdae’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he rested his forehead against Minseok’s, “I want you to be that someone, Min. I always had.”

“But—”

Jongdae shook his head, “Please…”

_ Please. _

_ Please. _

_ Please. _

The words rattled in Minseok’s mind, simmering his blood to a boil. It was wrong, what Jongdae was asking for. He was practically begging, and his blood sang in response. Minseok remembered that day in the elevator and the regret that had veiled Jongdae’s features after they had torn apart from one another. He didn’t want to see that same look cross his face ever again, and if either of them took that first step here and now, it would probably end the same way. 

Jongdae’s face inched closer to Minseok’s. He was so close that he could feel the pulsing of Jongdae’s heartbeat against his chest. 

“Dae…” Minseok begged, not making any move to push him away, “Please, don’t do this.”

_ Please. _

_ Please. _

_ Please. _

Minseok’s fingers pressed down on Jongdae’s hips, which caused him to arch forward even further into his chest. Jongdae was right over him, could overpower him if he really wanted to. They were so close that all it would have taken was the flickering of a muscle to push them together. 

“Min…” Jongdae’s lips ran across his own as he spoke, and he tightened the restraints on his desire so tight that he was practically suffocating. 

“I can’t, Dae,” Minseok whispered back. They were tempting each other as their lips would meet but not. “I can’t...I can’t bare to see that look on your face again. The one from the elevator. The painful regret that washed over you. I can’t do that to you...not like this.”

As painful as it was, Minseok used a hand to push Jongdae away, but the younger caught his hand in his. 

“Who ever said that I was regretful?” 

Minseok’s brows furrowed together in confusion.

Something that sounded like a chuckle ripped from Jongdae’s throat as he held Minseok’s face in both of his hands, he pressed his lips so gently against his own and even though the contact was light, he could feel himself slipping into a sea of sin as his eyes fluttered closed. 

But then Jongdae pulled away, and his eyes were on him. 

“What do you—”

“I didn’t regret what we did that day, Min, what I felt,” Jongdae pushed several strands of hair out of Minseok’s face as he spoke, “I was disappointed that you stopped, that you pulled away. I felt like you were the one who had felt regretful of what had happened, and then after everything was said and done, you didn’t want to talk to me. I was embarrassed, and—”

Minseok pulled down on the material of Jongdae’s shirt and crushed his lips to his. He had spent these last few torturous weeks believing that Jongdae had regret everything they had done, and knowing that Jongdae had actually wanted him felt like a door had opened. As much as he wanted to swallow him whole, he had to pull back, and the real disappointment showed on Jongdae’s face.

“I–I can’t do this unless I know that you aren’t doing this as a means of escape,” Minseok shuttered a shaky breath, “You know how I feel...and I would give you the keys to the whole universe to assure that you’d be happy, but—”

“Just kiss me, Minseok,” Jongdae whispered against his lips.

And Minseok obliged him. 

At first he was hesitant, not entirely sure how much he should give and not sure how much he was allowed to take. But the minute Jongdae ran his hand along the plains of his exposed chest, pushing him back onto the bed, a heat flared up inside of him. A low growl rumbled at the base of his throat as Jongdae straddled him. Minseok bunched up a fist of the silk sheets in his hands, which caught Jongdae’s attention. 

He got as close to Minseok’s ear as he possibly could, his lips brushed the topmost curve, “Don’t be so tense, just relax.”

Minseok chuckled, “How am I supposed to relax? I’ve wanted you like this for so long, and now—fu—”

Jongdae ran his tongue along the side of his neck, and Minseok buried his head as far back into the pillow as he could get it. When he reached the base of his neck, he sucked  _ hard _ and Minseok couldn’t stop himself from digging his fingers into Jongdae’s shoulder as the younger worked his neck. Minseok grew frustrated with the white tee that Jongdae had put on shortly before crawling into bed nearly an hour ago, and so Minseok grabbed a fistful of it and in one swift motion lifted it up and over his head.

“ _ Dae _ ,” Minseok moaned. He wrapped a hand around Jongdae’s neck, pushing him deeper into the skin.

He felt like he was burning from the inside out, and Jongdae was just adding fuel to the fire.

Minseok wasn’t entirely sure when he started crying, but he was even more unsure as to why. He couldn’t determine if they were tears of joy, or if it was because this would be the last time he would get to be with the man he loved before he became a married man. Married for the sake of a passive alliance, for power, for all the wrong reasons. 

Each kiss that Jongdae pressed into his skin was further confirmation of the impending truth that Minseok didn’t want to embrace. There was no changing the Captain’s mind. Jongdae would be waking up to the warmth of the sunshine and an empty bed. 


	40. CHAPTER 40: MINSEOK

Minseok forced himself to evade the daunting song of sleep several hours after desperate kisses were shared and clothes had been shed. He didn’t dare move to keep from waking Jongdae from what was probably his first night of fitless sleep in the last few days.

He used his elbow to prop himself up to get a better view, Jongdae looked incredibly fragile while he slept. The desire to scoop him up into his arms and cradle him to his chest was staggering.

His heart began to pound uncontrollably as a heightened sense of self awareness grew from within. The intimidation he felt when he realized just how little time he had to spend in these quiet, lazy hours with Jongdae swelled profoundly. He stretched out his hand and lightly brushed his fingers over the velvety soft hair that fell across the younger’s forehead. Even in sleep, Jongdae stretched out his limbs and pushed his back into his chest. Minseok dipped his head down and pressed a firm kiss against the warm skin in the crook of Jongdae’s neck; the latter hummed sleepily in response. Something short of a yawn passed through Jongdae’s lips as the muscles in his body relaxed against his own. Minseok slowly grazed the skin with the pads of his fingertips just enough to elicit goosebumps.

A strong sense of irritation and apprehension manifested deep in the center of his being. They had finally decided to put their differences and pride aside to start afresh, and now he was being forced to leave it all behind. For the first time in a long time, the stars had aligned, and they wanted exactly what he had set his heart on. It was a harsh reminder of how fleeting these little moments were, and he finally understood why it was important to rejoice in the time that they were granted, because it was nothing short of evanescent.

Minseok placed one last behind Jongdae’s ear before resting the side of his face against his head. His nose briefly brushed his ear as he bit down on his lip to keep tears from passing. He swallowed back the fear that caught in his throat.

“I’ll be back,” The whisper passed through his lips, grazing the outline of Jongdae’s ear, “I promise.”

He hadn’t anticipated Jongdae stirring at the sound of his voice, his eyelids heavy as they repeatedly peeled open and closed, his brows furrowing together.

Minseok murmured against his hair, “Sleep.”

Jongdae flipped around to face him, his eyes still closed as he draped an arm across his stomach, and when Minseok was sure that he had slipped back into his dreamlike state, he peeled himself away from Jongdae’s addictive embrace.

He gathered his discarded clothes from the floor and dressed himself as quietly as he possibly could. After shoving his feet through the opening of his dress shoes, he shuffled through the mental checklist of important items he would need on his person at all times.

The room was completely and utterly silent as he slipped his uniform jacket on while making his way back over to the edge of the bed. He kneeled down to be at Jongdae’s level, and a whole new pain bloomed in Minseok’s heart as he pressed another kiss to his forehead.

“I—” Minseok’s voice wobbled as he reached up with his hand to gently smooth over Jongdae’s hair.

Jongdae’s chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, one which promised that he wouldn’t be waking anytime soon.

“I’ll come home,” Minseok assured, “For you, I will find a way.”


	41. CHAPTER 41: MINSEOK

 

The Venusian capital city of Traygan was as regal and elegant as much as it was in disarray. Of the nine planets, Traygan was by far the largest capital city of them all. It was roughly the same size as some smaller Earthen countries, expanding hundreds of miles in each and any direction, and completely protected by the barren desert wasteland that enclosed the city. Minseok had been all over the enormous metropolis for various missions, but he always returned to the same grand hotel apartment whenever he was arranged to visit, never minding the location of his targets. 

After the ambush, the hotel management staff refused to rent the tainted room to any visiting guests, so after approximately a year of disuse, Minseok cracked open the savings he didn’t necessarily need to touch and bought the room for his own personal use. The room hadn’t been touched excessively, save for the deep cleaning that had commenced to remove any trace of blood, and even though he was a frequent inhabitant of the establishment, the room began to feel less and less familiar with each passing visit. He still thought the wallpaper to be one of the most hideous shades of yellow-brown that he’d ever seen, and the color had continued to fade, leached and stripped by the sunlight that streamed through. The bedside dressers were still scarred and bruised with large grooves from the short blades that threatened to slit his and Luhan’s throats. Even the contents within the nightstand drawers hadn’t been emptied. His heart stopped at the sight of the dozens of handwritten notes that had been engraved with a mixture of Luhan’s familiar scrawl, as well as his own. 

Minseok let his eyes choose the notes as they started to settle in a shallow pile atop the stand. He suddenly felt ashamed that this was the first time he had opened his dresser drawer after all of these years. He could have lived out the remainder of his days never knowing that they were still being stored in the very place he had left them, and his curiosity peaked as the weighing presence of Luhan’s nightstand just on the side of the bed sang to him. It felt like a betrayal, standing and then allowing his own feet to guide him to the stand that now acted as a time capsule for the fleeting moments they shared. His fingers trembled and heart raced as he reached out to brush the textured wood until he was pulling on the latch, freeing the memorabilia for the first time since Luhan had last opened it. 

Much like his own, there was a mixture of inscriptions, but Minseok’s eyes overlooked the achingly familiar handwriting and were drawn to the sheathed dagger that sat against the back of the compartment. An overwhelming wave of emotion crashed into him as the comforting weight of the blade rested against his palms. He took a deep breath as he exposed to the custom-made weapon to the air around him. It was some of the finest craftsmanship that he had ever requested of a bladesmith, and to this day, he still quivered at its sheer beauty. His eyes scanned the Icebrand-style blade, the hilt made of the finest and strongest obsidian that he may or may not have obtained by fairly unlawful means. Nonetheless, it wasn’t the smooth stone that established the daggers name, but the crystalline metallic glass that was sharper than even some of history’s most legendary swords. He held the blade up to the sunlight and marvelled at the way it glittered, completely undeterred by its near decade-long slumber. 

Luhan had taken it upon himself to  _ borrow _ the dagger for one of his late-night patrols, never to be returned. Little did Minseok know that it was closer than he thought the entire time.

Minseok shuttered as he re-sheathed the dagger and buckled it to one of the empty spots at his hip. The weight felt foreign, yet reassuring, and he knew it would take time for him to reestablish the habit of carrying it on his person. 

He rounded the foot of the bed and reacquainted himself with the random notes he had stacked on top of one another. A heavy mixture of anxiety and sadness flowed through his veins, he nearly forgot that he was supposed to breathe as he stared at Luhan’s writing.

_ Minseok,  _

_ I’ll be long gone before you return home. Don’t wait up for me. I’ll see you again in a few days. I promise. Until then, always remember: it’s you and me.  _

_ ~ Lu _

A greater majority of the vast collection of notes and reminders that they had left one another mimicked this one. Neither of them had ever been good with words. With feelings. The act of writing was enough for both of them.

Minseok’s eyes narrowed at the folded, sealed piece of paper that had been tucked away in the corner of his drawer. He gulped back the fear that lumped in his throat as he peeled it open. 

_ Kim Minseok, _

_ If you’re reading this, then you’ve either found this before you were supposed to find it...or I am no longer around to hand it to you myself. _

_ I sit here writing this to you as you sleep soundly. Your back is pressed up against my thigh, and even though your skin creates that illusion of sitting in a frozen tundra, falling asleep wouldn’t be the same without feeling that numbing cold again my own skin. But I could never tell you that. There are some things that you are better off not knowing. I have written this letter to you dozens of times over, never able to find the right words, but there’s no way in hell I’m going to let you see this until after I have long departed from this world. I could just see you laughing until tears spill from your eyes, and when you’re done with that, you would try to convince me that my feelings are wrong. That I  _ don’t  _ love you. That our line of work is too dangerous for either of us to be involved, regardless of the feelings I know you feel under that expertly crafted facade that you use to guard yourself.  _ The Ice Prince.  _ That’s what the people are calling you in this city, in this system, in this universe. It’s strangely fitting, and not. For your sake, I hope it doesn’t stick.  _

_ Bad things are coming Minseok. Things that neither you nor I could ever come to comprehend, and I’m scared. And not for the reasons you might think. I’ll spend the rest of my days embracing the rush of a fight, the exhilarating thrill that courses through my veins each time we fight back to back. I know I can do what I need to, knowing that you’re there to keep me safe. Just as I will do whatever I can to keep you out of harm's way. I couldn’t think of a more honorable death than protecting the man I love. You probably wouldn’t agree with me, but if it does come down to that, I hope that those gods...or whatever higher power might be lurking out there...will take me first.  _

_ It’s always been you and me, Minseok. Us against everyone, everything.  _

_ I’ll always be waiting for you...until you find someone who you deem worth waiting for.  _

_ Forever yours, _

_ Luhan _

Minseok feels breathless, reading the letter over and over again, hoping that the words on the page would morph. He wanted them to be a lie. The way his words inadvertently echoed the ones that had been said in his simulation aroused a certain panic deep in his soul. 

His knees gave out under him, collapsing onto the bed as an onslaught of conflicting emotions washed over him.

“Lu…” Minseok whispered into the empty room around him, a soft sob threatening to spill from his lips. 

Luhan had known that terrible things were coming, and a passive anger bubbled in his veins. The person he trusted the most, who trusted  _ him _ the most, had withheld information that could have saved them both. Information that Minseok would never have access to no matter how long and hard he tried to search for it. 

_ Always remember: It’s you and me. _

_ I’ll always be waiting for you… _

Even in death there was always an inadvertent promise with Luhan, and Minseok couldn’t help but wonder if it was because of Lu that he had developed his nasty habit of forming fragile promises. He couldn’t stop himself from wondering if Jongdae felt a similar simmer in his blood because of the laundry list of promises and apologies that Minseok had made to him. Perhaps it made him seem heartless. Insincere. It was likely one of the many reasons as to why the galaxy referred to him as the Ice Prince. It would be much to Luhan’s dismay to learn that the title had indeed stuck. 

And if the universe quivered before the Ice Prince, then the inevitable transition from Prince to King would force them to cower at his feet.

~

The Traygan Palace was much more than a great galactic treasure, it was a mighty fortress that was a force to be reckoned with. In its centuries long history, only once had it been infiltrated by outsiders who hadn’t even made it five feet beyond the towering doors of the grand entrance. 

This was not Minseok’s first time visiting the home of the Venusian royals; however, it will be his first formal introduction to Prince Yifan. They had stolen several glances of each other during the many parties and galas that had been hosted by the royal family, but neither of them ever had the courage to exercise the lustful interest. Minseok, himself, knew his place—has always known his place—and couldn’t risk losing a limb for merely attempting to  _ approach _ the prince. He was the Captain’s right hand man, and it would do neither of them any good if he were returned to headquarters in pieces. 

Now, nearly half a decade later, he was betrothed to the very same man. At least this time around he had the insurance of marriage on his side. 

Minseok had been escorted to and asked to wait in the rose garden upon his arrival. There were so many roses that the sheer number of them were much more overwhelming than the scent, one that Minseok had never enjoyed to begin with. Nonetheless, he found himself navigating the large garden at an idle pace, skimming the picturesque bushes where red, white, orange, and pink roses were in full bloom all around him.

“Kim Minseok.”

The sound of his name falling off of a foreign tongue registered slowly, his head turning in the direction of the voice just as slowly. He was surprised, and not, to see Prince Wu Yifan standing under the archway, a mixture of foliage and various colored roses, completely guardless. 

“It’s been a long time,” A small smile spreads across Yifan’s lips.

Minseok offers a nod in agreement, “Indeed it has, your grace.”

“Please,” Yifan half-heartedly begged, “Let’s drop the honorifics, shall we? You are to be my husband soon, my equal.” 

His face felt hot, and that’s all Minseok needed to know that an intense blush most likely filled his cheeks, which warranted a chuckle from the prince as he strolled across the cobblestone walkway. 

In the five years he had last been to Traygan, Yifan had grown certainly grown into his hidden features. Even under the deep burgundy suit, Yifan had newfound toned muscles. He could practically see the lines between the folds of his close fitting attire. Instead of the bright platinum silver hair, he reverted back to a more natural black shade, which did  _ wonders _ for his complexion. He thought that the silver hair had made his golden eyes pop, but the contrast between the blinding gold eye and his midnight hair made Minseok tremble in his presence. 

There was a lightness in Yifan’s step, a carelessness that Minseok nearly couldn’t believe as his betrothed settled in front of him, barely leaving enough room for personal space. 

“Allow me to formally introduce myself,” Yifan offered. “I am Prince Wu Yifan of Traygan, heir to the Venusian throne, and your soon-to-be husband. It  _ is _ a pleasure to  _ finally _ meet you.”

Yifan plucked one of Minseok’s free hands from his side and bowed to kiss his knuckles, glancing up at him in between his incredibly long lashes. Somehow, Minseok found himself feeling completely exposed. He could feel the blush in his cheeks deepening, yet he felt flattered to be receiving his advances. 

Minseok felt incredibly flustered by Yifan’s suggestive and flirtatious mannerisms, he could hardly remember how to form words as Yifan straightened, refusing to release Minseok’s hand.

Minseok offered a quick, respectful bow in return. “I am Kim Minseok. Leader of the Captain’s most infamous ACE stealth task force, and your...betrothed.”

Something akin to curiosity settled on the prince’s face as he used his thumb to stroke the back of Minseok’s hand, “I welcome you to my home. I trust that your stay will be comfortable.”

Minseok offered a warm smile, “It always is.” 

Yifan cleared his throat, finally relinquishing his grip on Minseok’s hand, folding his arms behind his back, “I truly wish that I could stay longer, but I have quite the schedule for the remainder of my day. I just wanted to come down here and welcome you properly, and extend an invitation that you might join me for dinner this evening.”

“As leaders, there’s hardly any room for downtime. We should know that better than anyone, but it would be an honor to join you, your grace.”

“ _ Yifan _ …” Yifan reminded him, pausing to pull a single black rose from behind his back, offering it to him, “and...the honor is all mine.”


	42. CHAPTER 42: MINSEOK

 

Minseok had never been more nervous for anything in his life. He could have been faced with fifty highly skilled and armed assassins and barely blink, but now his heart would beat uncontrollably whenever he thought about whether his tie matched the rest of his suit. Or perhaps it was the rest of his suit that didn’t match his tie? In the face of his impending wardrobe crisis, the war that waged deep in his mind was wrecking more havoc than his shaken nerves. 

Sehun would have punched him in the arm for acting in such a manner, but he was light years away from the people who needed him—who  _ he  _ needed. Even though he had the means of reaching them, he couldn’t jeopardize anything. Especially since he was the honored guest of Traygan for the next several days. The least he could do was be on his best behavior until he was required to report back to headquarters. 

Walking into his room had felt like walking into a different dimension; it was becoming glaringly obvious that Yifan had studied up on his future husband’s tastes and preferences. The room that had been prepared for him was overly lavish, the picturesque definition of regality. It was much larger than the room that he cohabited with Kyungsoo, and now Jongdae, that came equipped with a fully stocked walk-in closet, an area for entertainment, even the bathroom was big enough to accommodate  _ multiple  _ people at once. And it was the bathroom that captured Minseok’s attention the most. A striking contrast to the refined royal green and gold that covered every inch of the remainder of the palace, his room was a glaring outlier, tucked away, exceedingly out of place. Minseok sought comfort in the matte black aesthetics that had been carefully selected. The walls and ceiling were a solid, soft black matte that was borderline gray, which helped to highlight the black and white marble tub that sat in the center of the room, which was large enough to indulge a large group of people, a rainfall showerhead fixture covering the expanse of the area. He had to do several double-takes when he realized that there were actual lounging chairs surrounding the luxurious bath. If that wasn’t opulent enough, the bath was bordered by solid glass that would fog up from the rising steam.

If Minseok wasn’t expected to make an appearance at the feast that Yifan was supposedly throwing in his honor, and didn’t have a whole team waiting for him millions of miles away, he could probably live comfortably in this bathroom for the rest of his life. 

He forced himself to leave the comfort of the chilling bathroom and into the openness of the main bedroom that housed one of the largest four-poster beds that Minseok had even seen with his own two eyes. He couldn’t even imagine what the Prince’s bedroom must have looked like. He envisioned that it was nearly three times the size of his own room, he couldn’t even begin to wonder what a person would do with all of that space for one room. Not before long, Minseok was beginning to feel overwhelmed by the grand scale of everything around him, suddenly craving the intimacy that had been developed in his own room back at the ACE headquarters. He found himself missing the subtle things that he didn’t realize were so comforting to him: Sehun and Chanyeol’s obnoxious laughter, Kyungsoo tapping at the keys of his keyboard from the other side of the room, Junmyeon tapping his stylus against the side of his tablet. Even the whisper of Jongdae’s breathing as he slept through it all. 

The thought of Jongdae waking up to an empty bed, thinking that he would return later in the day, and then not, made his skin crawl. They had finally decided to put all of the complications and bitterness behind them, only for him to fuel it once more. He knew Jongdae wasn’t going to be happy whenever they are brought back together. Yet, he couldn’t help but overhear the other ACE members explaining the complicated and harsh regulations that undercover operatives had to live by during their time under. He could only hope that Jongdae had enough heart to understand why things are the way they are. The rules not only ensured the safety of the agents, but the people that they are close to as well. Missions such as these demanded great dedication, and even greater sacrifice. 

~

Several hours later, Minseok found himself standing in the middle of a  _ very _ grand throne room that doubled as the main hall of Traygan. There was much chatter amidst various groups that the wedding ceremony was tentatively planned to be hosted in this very room. He could only hope that it would be big enough to accommodate the large parties that would be flocking from all across this star system. 

He had managed to camouflage himself in a small group of ACE officials, some of them he knew personal and others he only knew based on hearsay alone. They spent the first hour drinking and chatting over the status of EX’ACT’s training. There were a lot of questions regarding the Rogue installation and their attachment to his team, but what had been more intriguing to them was the leak in Baekhyun’s identity. That’s when all questions had been put to a halt. 

Minseok took the liberty of excusing himself from the group of top tier officers and started to make his way to the bar that had been installed for the evening.

The tender to the bar offered a quick bow, “What would you like, sir?”

“Something strong,” Minseok gritted through his teeth.

A sigh slipped through his lips as a gentle hand caressed the curve of his shoulder. He turned abruptly to find Yifan adorned in a velvet forest green suit, an ornately detailed silk gold sash cascading across his body. He was a picture perfect prince, all that he needed to complete the look was his crown.

Yifan smiled warmly, his eyes glancing back and forth between him and his shoes, “I trust you are enjoying the party?”

The bartender returned with Minseok’s dark drink, bowing for the Traygan prince before returning to the other fussy drinkers who were impatiently waiting for their chance to order. One look at the golden drink in Minseok’s hand sent a smirk across Yifan’s face, “It seems that I am mistaken.”

Minseok shook his head, “The party is wonderful, truly. Thank you to you and your family for welcoming me with such an occasion.”

“I think your choice in drink seems to disagree,” Yifan chuckled. 

If the golden prince was offended, Minseok couldn’t tell. Regardless of the many rumors that he had heard about Yifan’s warm heart and overwhelming kindness, it was difficult to determine what made a person genuine or if their genuinity was nothing more than a facade created to sway those around them. 

Minseok could feel his face getting red-hot with embarrassment, “No, no! Please—”

“I’m only kidding,” Yifan offered his arm, and Minseok was obliged to take it, “ACE officers tend to stick out like a sore thumb, with their stunning white uniforms, amidst all of the gold and green of this palace.”

Yifan’s eyes traveled the expanse of Minseok’s body as they slowly strolled, “But, I can see that you’ve opted from wearing your own uniform.”

Somehow he and his betrothed found themselves matching. Whether it was intentional or not, he would leave that to his imagination as to have Yifan managed to pull it off. Indeed, Minseok had chosen to ditch the overworn ACE uniform for the evening in exchange for a velvety red two-piece suit with black silky lapels, settling for a simple black button up. He may or may not have left several of those buttons undone for  _ effect _ . 

“As if you haven’t seen me wearing it many times before,” he reminded, “Plus, you left me a  _ generous  _ amount of suits and uniforms to choose from. It’s as if I practically walked into your closet.”

The prince clinked his glass against Minseok’s offering him a wink as both of them took a quick swig, “Only the best for you. Nonetheless, it is true that there are a few...custom pieces that may or may not slightly match mine.”

“Definitely a bold statement, for sure,” Minseok commented as the prince pulled him closer to his hip. 

Throughout the night they had approached many people and many people had approached them. Ranging from servers to political dignitaries to other planetary royals, hundreds of people had flocked to them, asking all sorts of questions, primarily about when the wedding was going to be and what sort of preparations were being made for the biggest social event that the galaxy was faced with in the last several decades. Traygan Palace was especially known to flex and strain their pocketbooks for such an occasion. Minseok was infinitely grateful that Yifan had taken it upon himself to answer  _ all _ of those questions; he knew that he would be going into all of this blindly, but he didn’t realize it would be to such an extent that it almost felt burdensome. 

Both he and Yifan were  _ several _ drinks in when the music began to slow, and he could vaguely recall someone announcing that the floor would be cleared for them to dance. A subtle panic began to rise in his chest, and it wasn’t before long that Yifan was adjusting his slacks, and pulling Minseok into a comfortable position. 

The prince’s lips brushed the shell of his ear, they were so close that they could feel the other’s rapid heartbeat, “Just relax and follow my lead.” 

Minseok didn’t even realize there was only a hair-thin gap in between them, and without any notice, when the music picked up a bit, they were waltzing. He had learned how to waltz from Sehun, who had been taught by his own mother in a time long before his ACE recruitment. Now, he was here with Yifan and they were spinning and spinning in circles around the ballroom floor. The music was getting progressively louder as the ballroom floor seemed to fall away before his very eyes. The remaining people on the dance floor falling away with it. And then there was no music at all, just the ocean waves trapped in their irises crashing against each other. They were dancing on water. The cold, ocean breeze biting at my cheeks and setting my hair free, blowing in the wind behind me. Minseok could feel the oceanic breeze kiss the tips of his ears, turning them red as it howled in his ears. He closed his eyes for the briefest of moments to enjoy the coolness against his skin, but came to instantly regret the decision, because when his eyes opened, it was no long Yifan’s face that stared back at him, but Jongdae’s. His eyes widened as they watered with longing tears, his heart aching as he turned his head away slightly from the illusion. When he looked back, it was as if Jongdae had never been there. In a moment when the spinning and twirling slowed, he placed his hand around the base of Yifan’s neck to steady himself. Naturally, Yifan mimicked his movements, and they were nose to nose when he realized that the music was flooding through his ears, along with the roaring sound of clapping all around them. Minseok could feel his limbs trembling as they broke away, smiling and bowing to the crowd that had gathered around them. When the applause ceased, a new song began and people flooded the marble dance floor. 

Minseok met Yifan’s slightly amused, slightly concerned stare as they began to separate themselves from the remainder of the party. 

Before he knew it they were walking in the rose garden where they had met that morning. The sound of trickling water significantly helped in calming the panic that had built up in his veins. They walked side by side until Yifan pulled on the material of his suit, gesturing for Minseok to sit down on a bench that lined one of the white rose bushes.

“I didn’t realize that the Captain’s right hand could dance so well,” Yifan teased. 

Minseok chuckled at the comment, “I’ve seen my fair share of military balls in my life, thank you very much.”  

“Then what has you so worked up?  _ The  _ formidable Kim Minseok.”

He shook his head as he allowed his perfect posture to falter and fall against the backboard of the bench. 

“You saw someone.”

Minseok’s head whipped to Yifan as the words echoed through his ears, “I’m sorry, what—”

“You don’t have to lie with me, Minesok,” A reassuring smile spread across his lips, “I know the look of someone who is in love when I see it.”

“No, no, no,” Minseok waved his hands in between them, “You’ve got it all wrong, I—”

Yifan reached up to capture Minseok’s hands in his, “Stop feeling embarrassed, Minseok. It’s okay. Do you think that I didn’t consider that you might already have someone back at home waiting for you? I turned over each and every possible scenario in my head before I chose you. After all of these years, I knew next to nothing about you, other than that you were ACE and that you were high up on the Captain’s list of individuals who he infinitely trusted. I knew  _ nothing _ about your sexual preference, the importance of your position, or if you were already saving your heart for someone else, and I still picked you.” 

The information was processing at speeds much faster than Minseok could keep up with, “And now that you know...that my heart could never be yours...what does that mean for this marriage?”

Yifan’s smile spread much larger as he pushed a strand of Minseok’s hair back into place, “This is, and always has been, an arrangement, Minseok. Neither of us are marrying for love, but for alliance. For the sake of putting the mistakes of our forefathers behind us, and taking the necessary measures to ensure that order is restored to this system before it collapses on top of itself. I knew deep in my bones that you could be the person to help me do that. Despite the horrid accusations and claims that have been made against you and your team, I can see the drive there. The  _ desire _ for change—a better life, and I will choose to follow you to get to that better life that awaits us.”

Minseok’s heart swelled as he relaxed into Yifan’s touch.

“Consider this the start of a beautiful new friendship,” Yifan reassured.

Minseok loosed a relieved laugh, “You know, I’ve never been married to one of my friends before.”

“Well,” Yifan smirked, “There’s a first time for everything.”


	43. CHAPTER 43: TEAM EX'ACT

 

Despite feeling overly fatigued, Jongdae had finally attained a better grasp on group simulations. His muscles screamed and burned in places that he didn’t even realize could ache. He had been so absorbed during the last session and had completely lost track of time, but it also didn’t help that as they progressed through the simulations they would continue to get harder and harder. However, it served as a wonderful distraction from the anger and overwhelming anxiety that filled his chest. 

It had been five whole days since he had seen or heard  _ anything  _ from Minseok, since the day that he had woken up to the cold sensation of the silk sheets under his hand. He had sprung out of bed faster than an arrow could be loosed from its bow. Junmyeon and Sehun had already been sitting in the kitchen going over whatever notes that had been taken from their morning’s meeting, completely unphased by Minseok’s sudden absence. 

Junmyeon had gotten a quick glance of him walking over to them, greeting him with the usual good morning before turning back to Sehun. 

“Where’s Minseok?” Jongdae had inquired, but neither of them could give him a solid answer, all the while assuring him that he would be back soon and that he was probably in his own fair share of meetings. It wasn’t until two full days had passed that a wary look started to solidify on the faces of the ACE members. 

The whispers danced in the air all around him, the original ACE members were going out of their way to keep the topic out of their mouths around him. If it hadn’t been for their conversation regarding the parameters for undercover missions just the week prior, he would have just assumed that they were discussing confidential ACE business, but he knew that wasn’t the case. 

Now he was sitting against the wall of the simulation room with Kyungsoo, panting and sweating as they came down from the adrenaline high of the newly accomplished task. 

“Fuck,” Kyungsoo exasperated, sliding up the wall to stand. 

Jongdae’s mouth was completely dry, and he desperately craved the coolness of water, “Are—are you okay?” 

Sehun and Chanyeol had collapsed against the wall across the room from them, they looked as exhausted as he felt. 

Kyungsoo extended him a hand to help him up. They were half way across the room when Baekhyun had wedged his way between the two groups, Junmyeon at his side. His heart winced at the sight of the panting men and did whatever he could to keep his eyes from Baekhyun’s.

Junmyeon cleared his throat, glancing to Kyungsoo—a silent look of dismissal. The latter offered a quick pat on the back before stepping around Baekhyun and checking to see if Chanyeol and Sehun were doing alright. 

“I need to speak with you,” Junmyeon’s voice was tight as he angled his head towards the door. A painful and tense silence filled the space around them, “ _ Both _ of you.”

His suspicions had been confirmed. He couldn’t avoid Baekhyun forever, but he surely believed that he could at least try. He had hardly been able to look any of the Rogue members in the eye ever since Baekhyun chose to confess. Just being in the same room as Yixing or Jongin made his heart ache with all of the memories that he tried to lock away, deep within a highly secured vault that he would swallow the key to. None of it had been their fault, he knew that better than anyone, and he wanted nothing more but to collapse into both of them and just let out all of the frustration that he had spent the last week shoving deep down to the bottom of his heart. They both deserved an apology for his passive aggressive behavior, and he owed both of them all of the gratitude in the world for taking the time to wait for him to come to them. He wanted the whole process to be easier, couldn’t understand why it wasn’t, and couldn’t understand why all he wanted was Minseok—the one person who was causing him just as much pain as Baekhyun now that he has disappeared without a trace. It was the reason he had been tying himself to the ACE members. Regardless of the hurdles he leapt over with all of them, their connection wasn’t deep enough for him to feel uncomfortable. He could rely on them and they would support him without question (or at least with a minimal amount of questions). 

Junmyeon led Baekhyun and Jongdae out of the familiarity of the simulation room and down the hall into the conference room where they had received their orders for Operation: Pathcode. A silent invitation extended to the both of them to sit across from one another at the conference table.

“We’ve all been walking on eggshells around the two of you for almost two weeks now,” Junmyeon groaned in frustration, “It’s time to talk it out like  _ real _ men before the rest of the group forces this conversation into the public sphere of our team.”

Jongdae collapsed against the chair. It were as if the controls in his brain had disconnected the link to his feelings as his eyes forcefully found their way to Baekhyun’s across the table. 

“We were never truly back to back,” Jongdae wondered, “Were we?”

It didn’t take long for a single tear to roll down the side of Baekhyun’s face.

“I don’t want your tears,” Jongdae’s voice had been so empty, he wondered if there was any feeling left in his heart, “I want the truth and nothing more than that.”

Baekhyun used a knuckle to quickly brush the tear away, a subdued pained look settled on his face, “I meant every single word that I’ve ever said to you, Dae—”

“Don’t call me that.”

“—and you know it…” Baekhyun sounded breathless, “You know that deep down you want to believe that I’m not capable of pulling off what the Captain has demanded of me. If I wanted to kill all of you, I would have. It would have been as easy as falling asleep at night with you in my arms.”

Jongdae flinched at the hot flash of anger that passed through him as Baekhyun spoke.

“But I didn’t—I  _ couldn’t _ .”

“Why.”

“Because I fell in love with you.”

He couldn’t tell if the air around them was filled with a heated tension, or if it was just a newfound awkward silence because Junmyeon was sitting there to listen. 

“I fell in love with you.” Baekhyun confessed again, “Yixing. Jongin.  _ You _ . I thought of Rogue as my family. Even though none of you knew how I had been conscripted, all of you found a way to open your arms to me after we got passed all of our barriers. My intentions may have been wrong, but they were not mine. They were the Captain’s. I was just the middleman asked to carry out the work. Everything I ever told you...everything I ever did for you...it came straight from my heart. I have never once lied to you about my feelings.”

“If that was the case, then why didn’t you come out and say anything sooner?” he inquired, “Why not just say something?”

Baekhyun folded his hands on the table, “If it had been you...would you have been able to say it? Would you have been able to come out and tell the people you love that  _ you _ had been  _ hired  _ to gain their trust only to kill them in the end...all for the sake of money?”

A line of thick tears threatened to spill over Baekhyun’s lash line.

“Do you think that I  _ didn’t  _ want to tell you?” Baekhyun’s voice was nothing more than a mere whisper, “Do you know what happens when the Captain finds out about someone’s feelings for another?”

Jongdae couldn’t help but gulp as Baekhyun’s words helped to fill his deep well of anxiety.

Baekhyun’s voice was shaky as he pulled the ear-piece communicator from his ear and crushing it underneath the weight of his fist, “He’s been holding you over my head, Jongdae. Describing to me in detail the ways he’s going to torture you, how he’s going to... _ kill _ ...you if I don’t. I wanted to do  _ everything _ that I physically could get you, and the rest of Rogue, out of harm’s way before I was forced to return...but you fell into their nest, and it was my fault.”

Across the table, he tipped his head back to blink away the tears that still managed to spill into his hair, and Jongdae felt conflicted about Baekhyun’s motives. He had lied about who he was once, he could do it again. 

“Everything had always been an inside job. All of it. Neptune. Europa. Pluto. Callisto…” Baekhyun took a deep breath, “The bombs, the soldiers, all of it. I was the agent in charge of it all.”

“How do you expect me to believe that you’ve been trying to do what’s best for us when you were still trying to dispose of us on Pluto?” Jongdae folded his arms across his abdomen. 

Baekhyun shook his head, “Europa was my last  _ real _ attempt.”

“Then why? What was the point of everything after that point?”

“I had to make it seem like I was  _ trying _ ,” he admitted. “I could never wish the Captain’s merciless wrath upon even my greatest enemy.”

As wrong as it felt, Jongdae wanted Minseok. He needed something— _ someone _ —to cling to other than the words that hung in the air around them. He had asked for the truth, and whether it was the whole truth or not, Baekhyun had delivered, and now he felt suffocated by it all. It was too much all at once. For whatever reason, the Captain had wanted them dead, and now they were under the constant supervision of one of the strongest and deadliest stealth units in ACE history. The adrenaline pumping through his veins burned to a point past discomfort. 

Jongdae’s head turned to Junmyeon, who was actively taking in the details of the conversation, “And what is your team’s role in all of this?”

Junmyeon’s expression crumbled under the accusation, “Excuse me?”

“All of this seems a little too convenient,” Jongdae suggested, “Baekhyun’s mission, you taking me from Rogue, Minseok’s invitation to bring Rogue and ACE together…”

“Leave Minseok and the rest of our team out of this,” the look on Junmyeon’s face was feral, “We had nothing to do with this. Minseok and I had learned about Baekhyun’s identity around the same time, which wasn’t long ago. The operation status code,  _ ElyXiOn _ , wasn’t even in the ACE database when Minseok researched it prior to leaving for his mission with Yixing.”

Jongdae could feel a wall forming around the perimeter of his mind, and before he could combat Junmyeon’s statement, the door was thrown open and Sehun was crossing the threshold as the door smacked against the wall. 

Junmyeon stood in surprise, “Sehun—”

“Sit.”

The second in command complied with the order without even so much of a flinch, settling himself back down into the chair.

“What’s going on?” Baekhyun turned in his chair to face the younger. 

Sehun sighed as he angled his head towards Jongdae, “Minseok would be disappointed to hear your questioning our motives like this, Jongdae.”

“He’s not here to speak on the matter now is he?” The words tasted like venom as they fell from his lips. 

“You are sitting a little too high on your horse,” Sehun scoffed, “I don’t care how close you think you and Seok are.”

“ _ Sehun _ ,” Junmyeon warned. 

Sehun turned his body to face Junmyeon, both of their features contorted with disbelief, “I can’t believe you. You’re standing in as our leader while Seok is out there somewhere conducting whatever bullshit business that the Captain has assigned him...we have no idea  _ where  _ he is,  _ what _ he’s going,  _ when _ he’s coming back, or if he’s  _ even okay _ , and you’re more concerned about the proceedings of two quarreling lovers.”

“Enough,” Yixing’s low voice echoed throughout the room. The four of them turned to meet his stare. “This is my team, let me take responsibility for them.”

“We are all one team now,” Junmyeon reminded them, his eyes shifting to Sehun for half of a second, “ _ All _ of us. Can we all just find it in ourselves to have a civilized conversation about this?”

“There’s nothing civilized about finding out that someone you trusted completely was assigned to kill you, Jun,” Jongdae commented. 

Baekhyun’s eyes lowered to his lap as Yixing grunted and stumbled into the room, as if he had been pushed. A chain of events unfolded slowly before his eyes that included Junmyeon nearly knocking over the chair as he stood abruptly; Sehun’s legs crashing against the edge of the table; Yixing quickly crossing the room to where Junmyeon now stood; and Baekhyun did several double takes as Minseok crossed the tense barrier into the room. 

The world around him seemed to fall away until he and Minseok were the only two people left in the room. The rumble of his thunder rolled in the depths of his mind as Minseok stood steps closer and closer to the small group. Jongdae was unsure if he was even capable of breathing as he met Minseok’s piercing stare. A complex combination of relief and sadness washed over him, he wanted nothing more than to run to the EX’ACT leader, fall into his arms, and demand the answers to the questions that had been keeping him awake at night. Nothing was ever that simple at ACE headquarters. Nothing was ever that simple anymore. 

“Minseok…” Sehun gasped, “You’re—”

“Leave,” his voice was somewhere just above a whisper. “Sehun, Junmyeon, Yixing. Let’s go.” 

Jongdae could have choked on the lump that formed in his throat at the command. He intended to keep him and Baekhyun in the room together. Alone. A heavy panic began to rise in his chest.

“ _ Min _ ,” Jongdae stood.

“Sit down,” Minseok instructed. His stare was as icy as the room, he was sure that there were goosebumps underneath his long-sleeved shirt.

His jaw fell slack. He was completely and utterly dumbfounded by the bitterness in Minseok’s voice, but he stood. 

Minseok refused to avert his gaze. It was a soundless battle, their alert stares fueled by a fight of burning desperation. 

Jongdae’s was insistent, “ _ Min… _ ”

“For the love of the fucking gods,” Minseok cursed, “Sit down, Jongdae!”

He stumbled into his seat, a vague fleeting sense of fear forcing him to comply with the demand. The others quickly fled the room, that same general fear of Minseok’s strange mood fueling their actions. He needed to know what happened, he needed to know why he was acting like this, but he knew he wouldn’t be getting those answers now. 

Minseok cleared his throat, “It’s clear that someone, Junmyeon, I suppose, gathered you two hear to discuss the nature and intentions of Operation: ElyXiOn. Am I wrong?”

Neither of them offered a verbal response, settling for a quick and sharp refusal by shaking their heads. 

The leader sighed, running a hand through his blonde hair, “Finish what you were discussing, you can join the rest of us when this issue has been resolved.”

Baekhyun looked just as panicked as Jongdae felt, “But—”

Minseok held up his hand, which brought Baekhyun’s rebuttal to a striking halt, “Don’t make this harder for the both of you than it already is, Baekhyun. Do yourself a favor and explain what happened in the same way you told me. You’ll save yourself some heartache and struggle in doing so.”

All of the light had been sucked out of Baekhyun as he collapsed against the back of his chair. The first clear sign of defeat.

“This whole situation is not just uncomfortable for the two of you,” Minseok disclosed, “It’s discomforting for everyone. So, please, do  _ everyone  _ a favor, and figure this out before you come back upstairs.”

And then he was gone. Leaving the two of them to stare at the other in a bitter and freezing silence. 

Jongdae loosed the breath that he was holding as he stood and began slowly pacing back and forth. His mind felt like it had been working at the speed of light and he wasn’t able to keep up with the overwhelming feelings that were trapped in his chest. No number of deep breathing exercises could release the anxiety and shock that made his body feel heavier than it already was. 

“I know you don’t want to believe me,” he could hear Baekhyun push the chair back, “But everything I’ve told you is the truth. There’s nothing else for me to say. I have owned up to the awful things I had been asked to do, and I am fully aware of how terrible those things were, but I can’t take them back. I wish I could, but what’s been said is done and in the past. I’ve spent every single day after Europa trying to protect each and every one of you, regardless of the Captain’s demands. I was wholly prepared to return and face the consequences that were looming over the horizon for me, but the more time I spent with Rogue, the more I wanted to stay, the more I wanted to just  _ run _ and take my chances. And then we all ended up here anyways...and it was only a matter of time that the Captain would wrap his claws around you and get rid of you himself.”

Jongdae turned slowly, “You hated ACE for all of these years. The moment you stepped aboard our ship, you preached your anger and dislike to the stars. You never told us why, you just blabbered about how they’re the enemy and that they’re awful people. You always told us to  _ never trust an ACE _ ...swore to us that they would do everything in their power to break us down and exploit us for our skill and power. And now I understand. You’re a phony, a fucking coward, and one of the biggest hypocrites I’ve ever come to know. If what you’ve been saying is true...how can I trust you? You’ve spent the last half decade conditioning us to hate people like you, to be wary of people  _ like you _ . Low and behold, you turned out to be the very person you warned us to stay away from. So, why should I sit here and listen to  _ anything _ you have to say? Give me one good reason why I should stay.”

Baekhyun was stunned into silence as he processed Jongdae’s fiery anger. He had dug himself a hole so deep that he could barely see the light at the top. He swallowed any pride that he had left and squared his shoulders back, “I cannot.”

“What.”

“You heard me,” Baekhyun whispered, almost desperate, “I can’t give you a good reason to stay by any definition of the word. If you cannot see the truth for what it is, then I don’t know what else to say. I told you that day, in this very room, that I’d never be prepared to watch you walk away. I can see now that you won’t be able to accept this black heart for the decisions it had been forced to make.”

“I can’t, Baekhyun,” Jongdae pushed himself closer to the door, pulling the knob until the door was cracked, “I won’t.” 


	44. CHAPTER 44: JONGDAE & MINSEOK

 

Jongdae’s mind was working at a speed much faster than his feet. His lungs were on fire as he took the fire escape stairs by two’s and then by three’s, launching himself up towards Minseok and Kyungsoo’s bedroom. He took a moment to catch his breath as he peered through the glass to see Minseok standing at his desk, mildly annoyed with Kyungsoo, who was most likely bombarding him with the questions that everyone from EX’ACT was dying to know the answers to. Others were bound to ask questions, especially those who were closest to the leader, and there was no remnants of surprise when Kyungsoo practically started circling the couch to chase after Minseok, his face slightly flushed with vexation. The soundproof glass was working hard to cancel out the conversation being had between the ACE operatives. Jongdae inhaled deeply, daring to press the button that sent the glass door flying open and all of the tension drenching him as the air of the room folded around him. 

“I’m tired of repeating myself, Soo,” Minseok sighed.

Neither of them had been even remotely aware that Jongdae was several feet deep into the room and thousands of miles closer to their private conversation. 

Kyungsoo shifted from one leg to the other, his hands massaging his temples, “When are you going to learn to trust us? When are you going to learn that we can keep your secrets?”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” Minseok affirmed, “I just...don’t trust everyone else. I don’t trust this  _ place _ .”

“This is the most secure room in all of headquarters,” Kyungsoo stated matter-of-factly, “Unless you have forgotten the two whole days it took for us to scan the entire room for hidden cameras and microphones— _ anything  _ that could possibly give them the leverage that they desperately desire.”

Even from across the room Jongdae could see the way Minseok rolled his eyes. In the split moment Minseok tore his eyes from Kyungsoo, they had found Jongdae standing at the opening of the room, and it wasn’t long until his presence had attracted the attention of both ACE operatives.

Kyungsoo motioned for him to come closer as he said, “Come in, Jongdae.”

He refused to go against either of their wishes, even if the request seemed to be one sided, and wasn’t granted by the one person who he wanted to hear the words from. The walk from the door to the edge of the rug that sat beneath the twin couch set felt like an eternity as the two agents stared, almost scrutinizing. 

“I was just on my way out,” Kyungsoo announced, shooting a subtle glare in Minseok’s direction, who only continued to roll his eyes some more, “Perhaps you’ll be able to get through to him better than the rest of us.”

Jongdae fumbled for words as Kyungsoo brushed passed him, his footsteps getting further and further with each passing second, and when he could no longer hear the clicking of the shoe heel against the hardwood flooring, he knew it was just him and Minseok. 

“I suppose you are here for answers too,” Minseok statedly plainly, a tinge of irritation coating the words. 

He couldn’t bring himself to confirm Minseok’s precise suspicions for fear of tampering with his already dull mood. Instead, he swallowed the affirmation and took several steps closer to the elder, “I just came to see if you were alright.”

“Perhaps it should be  _ me _ asking  _ you _ that very question,” Minseok shifted, leaning against the arm of the couch to get a better look at him. 

Jongdae’s heart winced at the jab as several images flashed of Minseok bursting through the door, interrupting the heart-to-heart that Junmyeon wanted him to have with Baekhyun, which did nothing to weaken his firm protest against him. He could feel in his bones that everything Baekhyun had said was the truth, and he had never not trusted his raw instincts in situations like this one, but whatever was holding him back from doing so was pushing him in a direction that he wanted to be going in. His body was the ship and the undiluted heartbreak he felt was the fuel.

“And don’t try to tell me that  _ you’re fine _ ,” Minseok crossed his arms across his lap, “It’s written all over your face. You’re in total disarray over all of this. When was the last time you had a decent night’s sleep?”

“Maybe if you hadn’t left so abruptly, leaving me with more questions than answers, then I would be able to shut my eyes without feeling so anxious about whether or not you’d be coming back.”

Minseok had turned still. His features twisting with something like hurt, “I had my reasons.”

“Of course you did,” he sneered, “I guess being undercover has its perks. You don’t have to answer to anyone other than yourself...and I suppose your boss, as well. Don’t look so surprised. At first, I thought it had all been coincidence that you tore me from the room in the middle of my conversation with Chanyeol and Sehun about the details of a person’s undercover work, and then you disappeared the following day. When you told me that you were going to be back, I didn’t once think that you meant it in this manner.”

“You heard me.” A statement.

Jongdae bit his lip to temporarily aleve the fire in his blood, but it only seemed to add more bite, “Of course I heard you. You made it clear that you haven’t forgotten that I was having trouble sleeping. That I’m  _ still  _ having trouble sleeping.” 

The room had gone so silent that he could hear Minseok gulp from across the short distance that separated them. 

“Just...” Jongdae did all he could to keep his voice from straining to keep from sounding like he was begging, “I don’t need to know the details. Were you sent undercover?”

Minseok contemplated the question for a moment too long. The silence that hung in the air around them was all the answer he needed. 

“I’m tired, Minseok,” Jongdae let his shoulders droop with his evident defeat, “I’m tired of people lying to me. So stop turning over the lie that you were trying to craft in that clever mind of yours and just let me find some relief in this sea of discontent.”

A long shaky breath passed through Minseok’s lips, a look of recognition and realization lighting up his face, “I wasn’t going to lie to you. You and I, both, knew the answer to your question, whether I had or hadn’t answered, the response would have been the same either way.”

“Would it have though?”

“You trust me.”

He did. Regardless of the external protest, he trusted Minseok with every fiber of his being, and for a long while, he wasn’t sure if he could have brought himself to admit it. If he could rip his lightning from his soul and put it in Minseok’s hands, he’d trust him to keep it safe, to keep from dropping it in the same manner that Baekhyun had with his heart. However, there was a small part of him that equally believed that Minseok would have lied for the sake of protecting those around him. 

“There is no one here other than you and I,” Jongdae stated, “No one to listen in on this conversation and you still hesitated.”

“There are ears everywhere at ACE.”

“Not  _ here _ ,” Jongdae pushed, “Kyungsoo made that abundantly clear.”

Minseok sighed as he straightened his back, “I don’t have to explain anything to you that I don’t want to.”

“Says who.”

“There are just some things that you are better off not knowing, Dae,” Minseok asserted, “Just this once, I need you to trust me. I’ll explain everything when the time is right.”

Jongdae’s blood was brought to a simmer, he could practically feel the beads of sweat forming along his hairline, “In this universe, that’s the biggest lie of them all.”

He turned on his heel and made his way to the door, but before he could pass the threshold a strong pair of arms wrapped around him from behind. He could feel Minseok’s explosive heartbeat through the fabric of their clothing, pressing against his back. 

“I can’t let you go,” Minseok’s voice was shaky, “Not when I know there’s a possibility that you won’t walk back through these doors as the same man that you were when you walked in.”

Minseok’s hold on him tightened as the door slid closed, barely missing Jongdae by several centimeters. He pressed his forehead against the cool glass, letting himself relish in the comfort of Minseok’s touch for the first time in nearly a week. He could have fallen asleep standing up if it meant being there with him like this. He cleared his throat as Minseok’s grip loosened just enough for Jongdae to turn in his arms, his own arms still dangling at his sides, and when they met each other’s eyes, he could have collapsed under the sheer weight of the desperation that lingered there. 

Minseok’s breath was hot against his skin as whatever unspoken words were being poured from his searching eyes. 

“Please,” he begged, “When everything is said and done, I swear on this icy heart that everything will be explained. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, just... _ please _ ...don’t leave.”

Jongdae couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes away. He searched and scoured the lines of Minseok’s face that he had spent countless sleepless nights trying to recall, trying to memorize based on memory alone. He didn’t want to forget the way his feline stare made him feel, or the way one particular strand of hair always draped across his forehead. He could feel his heart nearly skip a beat at the thought of Minseok’s smile against his lips. He pushed his hand up against Minseok’s chest, just above his steady beating heart, smoothing his fingers against the dark fabric, “It feels pretty warm to me.”

Minseok hiccuped as he choked on a sob. He dipped his head and captured Jongdae’s lips with his own, the kiss itself soft and light until it wasn’t. Jongdae snaked his fingers around the base of his neck, pulling him even closer, their lips moving together in near perfect harmony—one hand still covering the spot above his heart. Minseok’s chest was on fire; his heart felt like it was going to explode with the mixture of emotions that overwhelmed him. He pulled away, but only long enough for him to say, “Only for you, Jongdae.”

Jongdae’s knees were several more kisses away from giving out beneath him as Minseok leaned in again. And again. And again. Minseok wrapped his arms around his waist to keep him from falling over. 

The kisses left Jongdae breathless when Minseok quickly pulled away to examine him, whispering, “ _ Anything _ for you... _ anything _ .”

All of the questions that Jongdae had come with were pushed to the back of his mind. He believed Minseok, and one day the answers would come. That day could be days, months, years away. As long as he believed in Minseok, and as long as Minseok was there with him, he could endure the insecurity for a little while longer. 

~

Minseok had arrived to headquarters much later than he had anticipated, and he didn’t expect the first item of business he’d have to deal with was Jongdae and Baekhyun. It was the last thing he wanted to do. Instead he wished he could have come home to seeing Jongdae laying in bed, sleeping, so that he could just crawl in and pretend like he hadn’t left in the first place. Perhaps, if he hadn’t, Junmyeon wouldn’t have dragged the two quarreling men together.

“What are you thinking about?”

Minseok could feel the vibration of Jongdae’s voice snake up his spine, their backs pressed against one another as they both desperately attempted to seek out comfort in the coolness of the fresh sheets. 

“Who says I’m thinking about anything?” Minseok countered.

He couldn’t see Jongdae’s face, but he swore he could sense a sly smile forming there, “You’re  _ Kim Minseok _ . You’re always thinking.”

The feeling of Jongdae’s slightly outgrown top-length brushing the back of his neck as Minseok stretched his neck. A tingle ran down his spine at the soft touch of hair against skin and it took every ounce of self control to suppress the shiver that threatened to rattle his muscles. Jongdae’s only response to the movement was to press himself closer. For the first time in a long time, Minseok could feel  _ his  _ own skin boiling, a thin band of sweat collecting at his hairline. When the heat didn’t subside, he kicked the thick sheets away from his body and relished in the cool air that hugged his skin as he peeled himself from Jongdae. He could practically feel the goosebumps forming where his skin was sticky with sweat. 

The mattress shifted slightly as Jongdae propped himself up to get a better look at him, and when their eyes met, a fire began to rumble deep in Minseok’s soul.

“Are you okay?” Jongdae whispered, brushing Minseok’s hair out of his face with his fingers. 

Minseok couldn’t help but lean into the soft touch. Jongdae’s fingers were feverish, tracing their way through the week old blonde hair, skimming the freshly buzzed sides. He caught himself in the act of rolling his eyes below his lids; he cracked them open ever so slightly and seized Jongdae’s hand in his own before that addictive touch could explore further.

“It’s just hot,” he gasped. 

The smirk that Minseok had suspected from earlier was making its way to Jongdae’s lips as the younger skimmed his expression, “What were you thinking about, Min?”

He just settled for shaking his head, “A lot of things, I guess.”

“You guess?”

He sighed as their eyes met, “I’m thinking about everything that happened earlier.”

Jongdae’s brows furrowed in curiosity. 

“I just got home after a week of being away,” he relaxed his shoulders against the pillows that were stacked behind him, “and the air between you and Baekhyun still hadn’t been cleared, and my second in command stepped out of bounds,  _ again _ . I’m just a little frustrated.”

“Frustrated?” Jongdae nearly sounded offended, “With an issue that’s none of your business?”

“When you are involved—when my  _ team _ is involved...it’s my job to make it my business.”

Jongdae’s expressed morphed from one to another, one that Minseok couldn’t read. His heart raced at the thought that he had said something to upset him. His beautiful cheshire eyes scanned and studied him for a long moment, and he could only hope that Jongdae would say something before he fell unconscious from holding his breath for too long. 

“I wish…” Jongdae pushed himself into a sitting position. Minseok felt vulnerable as he looked upon his towering figure, “I wish that other people could see you like this.”

“Half naked?” The words slipped through his lips before he could even comprehend what he had said.

This made Jongdae chuckle and relief rippled through him at the light and airy sound.

“I think I’m going to have to be a little selfish when it comes to that,” Jongdae teased. A more serious expression settled on his face once the moment had passed, “I meant, I wish that people could see who you are passed all of this. The uniform. The title. The metals.  _ The Ice Prince _ . I haven’t even scratched the surface and I know that none of those things could ever define who you are as Kim Minseok.”

Jongdae slipped his fingers into Minseok’s before pressing on, “Not all that glitters is god. For the last five years...I spent every single day being deceived by someone I thought I could trust. He poured sweet lies into our ears, into our hearts, that were camouflaged as the truth, and we believed him.  _ I _ believed him. I spent the greater majority of your week away wondering...if he would have just been honest from the beginning, would I be this angry? Would I be this  _ hurt _ ? I feel like I’ve been floating in an endless sea of what if’s and I can’t seem to find the strength to swim against the tide. The closest I’ve come to doing so is by nearly taking him out in simulations, all because I know he’ll end up being alright on the other side.”

“I know you’re upset,” Minseok squeezed his hand reassuringly, “Angry, sad, and a combination of many other things, but you won’t be able to find relief until you’ve come to terms with the truth and accept it for what it is. I think everyone is as angry as you regarding what happened, but no one will ever experience those very emotions the same way as you. We all experience and vent our emotions in different ways. The anger and sadness that you feel are justified. But...if you want to push past that...you need to let the truth be your guide in all of this. Let it be the compass that steers you north towards home, towards the answers and solace that you seek, towards a better future. If you let your reservations simmer, you’ll find yourself fighting against a whirlwind of emotion as dark as midnight, and there’s no telling how things will go from there.

“I could never say that our experiences are similar, but take it from someone who has encountered the tragedy of losing someone they loved, someone who was worth more than any sun or moon. None of you even saw the raw reaction of his passing, and yet all of you have seen first hand how I let him take over my life after he was gone, even eight years later. Don’t let your hatred and self-loathing become a crutch, it will do nothing to support you. It will only bring you to your knees and force you to face the truth that will stalk you for years, far after those people have passed from your life.  _ Jongdae _ , for the love of everything that is good and just, learn from my mistakes. Forgive him...and if you still can’t bear it after everything is said and done, then you can deal with that when the time comes.”

It took a long time for Jongdae to catch his breath and for his mind to process everything that had been said between them.

_ Forgive him. _

It was much easier said than done. He had loved Baekhyun, perhaps he still did, but nothing could ever compare to the endless burn that came with his deception. Going through day-to-day life was like walking through a dense fog; trying to sleep at night was suffocating, training in simulation rooms made him feel heavier and heavier with each passing day, and simply trying to talk made his mouth feel drier than the oxygen-less air outside the station. Everything was hazy and he craved a breath of fresh air that would wipe the slate clean; regardless of how deep that well of love went, it had hollowed out and left no water to spare.

“I know what it’s like to be in Baekhyun’s position,” Minseok confessed as he played with their tangled fingers. “Not necessarily in circumstance, but I understand what it feels like to be riddled with guilt so burdensome and overbearing that it could crush you into nothing under all of that weight,” he slowly lifted his eyes to meet Jongdae’s curious stare. “I felt responsible for Luhan’s death and not a single day passes that I don’t wish I could have done things differently. I wish that whole day could just be erased from time and space for both benevolent and selfish reasons. I could have saved him, and I waited a moment too long before it was all over, his body laying on the floor—lifeless. After all of these years, I still believe that it should have been me. Or rather, it shouldn’t have been either of us. We could have made it out of there together, and somehow only I walked away unscathed, and I’ve been living with that impenetrable guilt ever since.

“Forgiveness is the hardest step in the healing process, which is also why it’s the first. It’s  hard to admit our faults and to push past the faults of others when the foundation of a relationship is built on a bed of lies and deceit. However, solely based on what I’ve seen, your relationship has become genuine on both sides, and I know it’s not easy to forgive someone who has done you wrong, especially in these circumstances, but if you let this wound fester for longer than need be, it will become too infected to remedy.”

As if it were as natural as breathing the artificial air around them, Jongdae pulled Minseok into his arms, embracing him with all of the residual strength left in his body, willing it to the surface. He was afraid that if he let go, it would all turn out to be a dream—Minseok hadn’t really been here, he and Baekhyun hadn’t actually spoken on the taboo subject, and he was going to wake up to find the blinding white walls of the simulation room boxing him in. But the warmth radiating from Minseok’s body anchored him to this reality, reminded him that he wasn’t alone in a place that tried to appear so concrete and perfect.

“You are not the Ice Prince,” Jongdae whispered against his shoulder, “but one of  _ frost _ .” 


	45. CHAPTER 45: JONGDAE & MINSEOK

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delayed update, and that its rather short. I hope you all enjoy and anticipate what's to come.

 

“I can’t stay.”

Minseok whispered, pulling out of Jongdae’s sudden embrace. He couldn’t exactly read the latter’s emotions; distraught was the best he could describe it in the moment. 

“What?”

“I can’t—”

“I heard what you said the first time,” Jongdae interrupted. 

Neither of them could meet the other’s eyes for several long agonizing minutes, but Minseok dared to take Jongdae’s hand in his one last time. At least for now. Surprise claimed him in various forms when Jongdae didn’t pull away.

“I’m doing what I can to be honest with you, Dae,” Minseok admitted, “I can’t give you the specifics as to where I’ll be, but I’m only here until late tomorrow night.”

Jongdae nearly exploded as a result of the instantaneous frustration that boiled in the pit of his stomach, but he had called Minseok a prince of frost for a reason. Even prior to their formal introduction to one another, Jongdae believed that his prescribed title of Ice Prince had never been appropriate. At the core of it, ice was steadfast, unforgiving, and immoble; characteristics which could never accurately represent Minseok in the ways that mattered. He discovered that underneath the thin layer of ice that helped to make up Minseok’s exterior facade was a tender man with a troubled heart. He was a lot like the frostbitten roses of his mother’s garden; they might have been blanketed in ice crystals, but the shape and color of the rose itself was left intact. If anything, the frost helped to emphasize their beauty. 

The persona that Minseok attempted to project onto the rest of the galaxy was just another object of intrigue for Jongdae to examine until he found the flaws that would eventually thaw and reveal the most dazzling white rose to have ever bloomed.

Jongdae hunched over, running a hand through his hair, “You just got back.”

“I know,” Minseok sighed, “But it was never going to be for long.”

“Why can’t they send someone else?”

Minseok offered him a grateful smile and raised a hand to caress the sharp curves of Jongdae’s face, “It can only be me. Even if they wanted to give this mission to someone else, they couldn’t. It  _ has _ to be me.”

“But…”

“You know I can’t talk about it, Dae,” he whispered, pulling Jongdae into his arms and settled them against the mattress. 

He stroked the velvety light brown hair with his thumb and Jongdae shuttered a breath into the crook of his neck. The ache that haunted Minseok with each passing day could no longer be considered an ache, but an agonizing pull in the direction he wanted to be headed in. For every mile that divided them felt like a hook sinking deeper and deeper until the tether recoiled, making each of his footsteps more labored than the last. Whenever sleep claimed him he imagined a great divide, frighteningly endless with no bottom but darkness, and on one side was Jongdae, and on the other was himself. Between them lay a single, thin rope that looked like it could break under even the slightest pressure. To get to one another, he knew that one of them would have to cross, but any time either of them tried to take a step towards that daunting rope they would back away, neither of them wanting to get in the way of the other’s attempt to cross, which only halted the process all together. Neither of them dared to do it, hopeful that the other would. 

Each night the dream would be altered slightly. The landscape would morph from a desolate canyon to towering skyscrapers of a bustling city; Jongdae would be accompanied by the other ACE members, while he was joined by those of Rogue; or there would be nothing at all. He wasn’t sure what to make of it all, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask Jongdae his opinion on it. So, he would let the dream stew until an answer was presented to him. 

“Are you scared?” Jongdae murmured, his voice rumbling against his chest, heavy with drowsiness. 

Minseok continued to play with the younger’s hair as he leaned his cheek against his temple, “I think scared is too weak of a word.”

Jongdae breathing slowly became heavier in between the forbidden conversation, but that didn’t stop him from asking, “Is it dangerous?”

He tightened his hold around Jongdae’s shoulders. He let himself simmer in the darkness that came with shutting his eyes against the world around them, his voice barely a whisper, “It makes me feel like I’m teetering on a line, one that needs to be crossed but shouldn’t. There’s a lot at stake if I allow myself to go across, but there are even heftier consequences if I don’t. I know what needs to be done, but I don’t know if I can sacrifice everything that is on my side of the line. For the first time in nearly a decade, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

Jongdae had gone quiet, save for the steady breathing that brushed the nape of his neck. Minseok lips wobbled as he pressed them to Jongdae’s forehead, and when he pulled away just enough to gaze at him, a single tear fell across the bridge of his nose.

“Tell me what to do...” Minseok muttered to himself, to the deeply sleeping figure who held all the answers he sought, “Am I supposed to step over the line...or do I risk gazing at it and live with the consequences that come with loving you?”


	46. CHAPTER 46: BAEKHYUN

 

Going through the days was like trekking through a dense fog in the middle of a lush forest. Each time Baekhyun thought that he could finally recognize a way out the fog would swoop in and guide him off the path. It was zig-zagging around corners that weren’t even corners, for everything looked the same, sounded the same,  _ smelled  _ the same. And the look that Jongdae gave him every time they found each other trapped in the same space together was mind numbing. 

It’s exactly how he felt when he found Jongdae casually staring out of the window adjacent to Minseok’s desk, as if he was carefully studying the different shades of violet-black that acted as nothing more than filler between the glistening stars beyond the thick glass. There was a point in time, not too long ago, when Baekhyun was that glistening star in Jongdae’s life. Not because he was the center of his world, but because Jongdae made him shine in ways that wouldn’t be possible if it weren’t for his presence. If it weren’t for Jongdae, he would have managed to blend into the background of Rogue’s team, would have been a mere fly on the wall, all the while offering his services. Perhaps if that had been the case, none of this would have happened; their lives wouldn’t be complete and utter chaos, they wouldn’t be fighting, he wouldn’t have betrayed his closest friends, and just maybe they could have been happy. He held onto the hope that the next time they would meet, in a life that would be theirs but all the while not, they would be free of the mistakes they made and regrets that they held deep in their hearts.  

“Baekhyun…”

He stumbled at the sound of Jongdae’s voice, his lips forming his name, as it echoed off the walls of the room. His eyes flickered to where Jongdae stood completely frozen, back leaned up against the glass. He looked as if he were going to be swallowed up by the overwhelming darkness of space, and in a universe where gods and goddesses supposedly reigned with an iron fist, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that Jongdae’s beauty matched that of one of those gods.

“Dae…” he was breathless, and didn’t dare to take even a single step, despite the overpowering pull that wanted to draw him closer.

They stared at one another for a long time, neither of them saying more than the other’s name.

And Baekhyun knew that this moment, here and now, would change everything. Either for better or for worse. 


End file.
